HELEN    TREVERYAN 


^- 


HELEN    TREVEEYAN 


OR 


THE   KULING   RACE 


BY 

JOHN   ROY 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES 
VOL.    I 


ILonUon 

MACMILLAN    AND    CO. 

AND   NEW    YORK 
1892 

All  rights  v  zserved 


I/. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    I 

PAGE 

The  Treveryans  of  Laneithin  ....        1 


CHAPTER    II 

Change  of  Scene  .  .  .  .  .  .19 


n?  CHAPTER   III 

•*?    The  Langleys  of  Wrentham  .  .  .  .  .25 


^  CHAPTER  IV 

^     GrY  Langley  leaves  England  .  .  .  .40 

4  CHAPTER  V 

^    The  Thirtieth  Lancers  .  .  .  .  .46 

^  CHAPTER  VI 

T^UTWARD  Bound  .  .  .  •  .56 


CHAPTER    VII 

Syntia      ........      70 


VI  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    VIII 

PAGE 

Some  Morning  Calls    .  .  ...  .  .85 


CHAPTER    IX 

An  Indian  Cold  Weather       .  .  .  .  .111 

CHAPTER   X 
Christmas  Week  .  .  .  .  .  .125 

CHAPTER    XI 

The  Proclamation  of  the  Empire    ..  .  .  .     138 

CHAPTER   XII 
Mr.  Pitt  Wright  ......     155 

CHAPTER   XIII 
The  Die  is  cast  ......     172 

CHAPTER   XIV 

Suspense  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .     184 

CHAPTER   XV 

Engaged   ........     201 

CHAPTER    XVI 

Guy  writes  Home  .  .  .  .  .  .217 


CONTENTS  VU 


CHAPTER    XVII 

PAGE 

The  News  arrives  at  Wrentham       ....     234 


CHAPTER    XVIII 
The  Beginning  of  Trouble     .....     243 

CHAPTER   XIX 
Trying  to  do  Eight      ......     261 


CHAPTEE  I 

THE  TREVERYANS  OF  LANEITHIN 

Upon  a  weather-beaten  headland,  at  one  of  the  most 
inaccessible  points  of  the  southern  coast  of  Cornwall, 
stands  the  old  parish  church  of  St.  Erroc.  Even  now 
there  is  no  railway  within  several  miles  of  it ;  and  the 
parish  is  perhaps  as  isolated  and  old-fashioned  "as  any 
in  England.  Its  southern  boundary  is  formed  by  a 
line  of  rugged  cliffs,  with  one  or  two  difficult  landing- 
places  which  can  be  approached  only  when  the  wind 
is  off  shore.  To  the  north  is  rough  moorland,  over- 
grown with  gorse  and  the  beautiful  Cornish  heath; 
and  beyond  the  moorland  are  the  bare  treeless  hills, 
eternally  swept  by  the  winds  of  the  Atlantic.  The 
parish  consists  of  several  scattered  hamlets  and  farms 
at  some  distance  from  the  church,  which  stands  on 
high  ground  with  some  trees  and  a  village  clustering 
round  it.  The  tall  slender  spire  is  a  conspicuous 
landmark  for  ships  at  sea.  The  principal  house  in 
St.  Erroc  is  the  old  manor-house  of  Laneithin,  a  sub- 
stantial building  of  gray  stone,  which  stands  in  a 
VOL.  I  B 


2  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

wooded  hollow  near  the  edge  of  the  moorland,  about 
two  miles  from  the  sea.  From  an  architectural  point 
of  view  Laneithin  is  not  beautiful  or  otherwise  worthy 
of  remark ;  but  it  is  a  fair  specimen  of  a  Cornish 
country-house,  and  in  its  way  picturesque  enough. 
About  it  are  some  clumps  of  fine  trees ;  and  from  one 
side  a  deep  glen  runs  down  to  a  cove  among  the  cliffs. 

Forty  years  ago  Laneithin  was  occupied  by  John 
Treveryan,  generally  known  as  the  Squire,  whose 
family  had  held  the  house,  and  some  good  land  round 
it,  since  the  days  of  the  Tudors.  John  Treveryan  had, 
when  a  young  man,  served  for  a  time  in  the  army ; 
but  he  had  retired  on  succeeding  to  his  estate,  and 
had  soon  afterwards  married  a  very  fair  and  very 
charming  lady,  who  shared  his  Cornish  home  for 
nearly  thirty  years.  When  she  died  she  was  very 
deeply  mourned,  not  only  by  her  husband,  but  by  the 
whole  population  of  that  wild  district  of  farmers  and 
fishermen.  Of  her  children  Margaret,  the  eldest,  was 
then  with  her  father.  A  son,  Erroc,  had  entered  the 
army,  and  gone  to  India  with  his  regiment.  A  second 
daughter  had  married  the  curate  of  the  neighbouring 
church  of  St.  Kerle's,  and  had  afterwards  left  the 
county. 

After  Mrs.  Treveryan's  death  her  husband  seemed 
for  a  time  quite  broken  by  his  loss.  People  pitied 
the  'poor  old  Squire,'  and  said  he  would  never  be 
the  same  man  again.  Perhaps  he  never  was  the  same 
But  as  time  went  on,  it  was  found  that 


I  THE  TREVERYANS  OF  LANEITHIN  3 

John  Treveryan  had  by  no  means  done  with  life. 
When  the  violence  of  his  grief  abated,  the  Squire 
began  once  more  to  show  an  interest  in  what  was 
passing  around  him ;  and  after  a  year  or  two  he  was 
again  to  all  appearances  as  cheery  as  ever.  His 
daughter  managed  his  house  for  him  exceedingly  well, 
and  was  soon  as  popular  as  her  mother  had  been.  In 
the  sunshine  of  her  love  and  care  the  Squire  seemed 
content  and  even  happy. 

He  was  a  singularly  fine -looking  man;  tall  and 
powerful,  with  a  high-bred  regular  face  and  taking 
manners,  hearty  but  courteous.  His  complexion  and 
his  blue  eyes  were  clear  and  bright ;  and  his  reddish 
hair  was  still  thick  and  almost  untouched  bj  gray. 
The  broad  rounded  forehead  and  slightly  aquiline 
nose,  and  the  straight  strongly-marked  eyebrows,  gave 
evidence  of  talent  and  character.  Those  eyebrows, 
rather  broad  than  heavy,  were  the  distinctive  feature 
of  the  Treveryans.  They  were  to  be  found  in  almost 
every  one  of  the  family  pictures.  The  Squire  shaved 
all  but  his  whiskers,  showing  a  mobile  well-cut  mouth, 
and  a  rather  prominent  underlip  and  chin.  A  hand- 
somer man  one  could  hardly  see. 

Unfortunately  the  Squire  was  not  free  from  some 
dangerous  qualities.  He  had  a  strong  will,  with  un- 
deniable talent  and  originality  of  mind ;  but  his  judg- 
ment was  not  altogether  trustworthy,  and  his  reckless 
disregard  for  money  had  often  been  a  trouble  to  his 
wife.     It  was  not  extravagance  of  the  ordinary  type. 


4  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

He  spent  little  on  horses,  or  shooting,  or  dress,  or 
wine,  or  any  of  the  usual  luxuries.  He  rarely  drank 
anything  but  water,  and  though  he  had  a  magnificent 
appetite  he  liked  the  plainest  of  food;  and  in  every 
way  his  tastes  were  very  simple.  But  he  seemed  to 
look  upon  money  as  a  worthless  thing,  to  be  given 
away  with  the  most  lavish  generosity  if  any  one  wanted 
it,  and  to  be  spent  without  limit  or  calculation  upon 
any  object  which  might  for  the  moment  have  aroused 
his  interest.  Hitherto  the  steady  common  sense  of 
his  wife  had  kept  him  within  bounds ;  but  now  that 
she  was  gone  he  began  to  give  himself  more  rein,  and 
to  enter  upon  schemes  of  which  she  would  certainly 
have  disapproved. 

Margaret  Treveryan  had  all  her  father's  good  looks, 
and  much  of  her  mother's  capacity ;  but  she  was  still 
comparatively  young,  and,  moreover,  she  did  not  know 
all  that  was  going  on.  So,  having  no  check  upon  him, 
John  Treveryan  began  to  get  through  his  money  a 
great  deal  faster  than  he  could  afford  to  do.  He 
rebuilt  two  or  three  farmhouses,  which  were  certainly 
in  bad  repair,  and  amused  himself  by  making  them 
examples  of  what  in  his  opinion  farmhouses  should 
be.  The  work  afforded  him  a  great  deal  of  pleasure, 
and  in .  a  sense  he  did  it  very  well ;  but  the  result  was 
that  the  homely  Cornish  farmers  found  themselves 
absurdly  overhoused,  and  that  a  good  many  thousands 
were  sunk  without  the  smallest  return.  Then  the 
Squire,  who   read   largely  and   had   an   active   mind. 


I  THE  TREVERYANS  OF  LANEITHIN  5 

took  to  buying  novelties  in  the  way  of  agricultural 
machinery.  Each  fresh  toy  was  more  wonderful  than 
the  last,  and  each  was  in  turn  thrown  aside  and  for- 
gotten, and  each  cost  money.  The  Squire  had  also  a 
taste  for  mechanical  invention  ;  and  he  indulged  it  with- 
out regard  for  expense.  He  set  up  a  small  workshop 
in  the  house,  and  used  to  turn  out  very  creditable 
models,  which  went  off  to  London  or  elsewhere  to  be 
developed.  They  were  useless,  but  they  were  very 
ingenious,  and  they  helped  to  get  rid  of  the  sovereigns. 

After  a  time  Margaret  Treveryan  began  to  see  that 
her  father's  inventions  were  more  clever  than  practical, 
and  that  the  money  must  be  going  very  fast ;  but  her 
hesitating  half- playful  attempt  at  remonstrance  met 
with  no  success.  The  Squire  told  her  with  a  good- 
humoured  smile  that  she  did  not  understand  anything 
about  the  matter ;  that  it  always  paid  to  do  things  in 
the  best  possible  way;  and  that  he  was  determined 
to  develope  the  estate  to  the  utmost.  Ten  years  after 
Mrs.  Treveryan's  death  he  had  developed  the  estate  to 
such  an  extent  that  he  had  got  through  all  his  ready 
money,  and  was  beginning  to  borrow.  And  there  was 
nothing  whatever  to  show  for  it. 

In  the  meantime  the  Squire  had  become  a  grand- 
father. Erroc  Treveryan  had  married,  soon  after  his 
arrival  in  India,  the  only  child  of  the  General  com- 
manding the  division.  Mary  Ford  was  a  gentle  pretty 
girl,  and  made  him  a  good  wife  ;  but  she  and  her 
children  suffered  severely  from  the  climate.     Two  of 


6  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

them  died  before  they  were  a  year  old ;  and  when  the 
terrible  storm  of  the  Mutiny  broke  upon  our  country- 
men in  India,  the  third  child,  a  lovely  little  fair-haired 
girl,  eighteen  months  of  age,  was  beginning  to  look 
white  and  fragile.  It  was  a  fearful  time  for  the 
ladies  and  children.  Mary  Treveryan  in  common 
with  others  was  separated  from  her  husband,  whose 
regiment  was  sent  up  to  the  disturbed  districts.  She 
remained  for  a  time  in  Calcutta,  and  there  gave  birth 
to  a  fourth  child  which  only  lived  a  few  hours.  The 
poor  mother,  worn  out  with  grief  and  anxiety,  very 
nearly  followed  it;  but  at  last  she  grew  a  little 
stronger;  and  then,  very  pale  and  wasted,  she  gave 
way  to  her  husband's  request  and  sailed  for  England. 
His  one  desire  was  to  know  that  she  and  little  Helen 
were  safe  at  Laneithin. 

They  arrived  in  the  early  autumn,  after  a  trying 
voyage  in  the  monsoon,  and  the  Squire  went  all  the 
way  up  to  Plymouth  to  meet  them.  He  received  them 
with  a  warmth  and  affection  which  completely  won 
their  hearts.  Nothing  could  be  good  enough  for  them. 
He  had  engaged  the  best  suite  of  rooms  to  be  got  at 
the  best  hotel,  and  had  tipped  the  servants  all  round 
to  a  perfectly  ridiculous  extent ;  and  he  ordered  sump- 
tuous meals  for  them,  and  tried  hard  to  make  his 
daughter-in-law  drink  champagne  three  or  four  times 
a  day ;  and  was  generally  charming  and  troublesome. 
As  for  the  child,  he  idolised  her  from  the  first  moment 
he  saw  her ;  and  she  evidently  understood  the  position. 


I  THE  TREVERYANS  OF  LANEITHIN  7 

It  was  pretty  to  see  them  together — the  tiny  dainty 
child,  and  the  old  man  with  his  massive  frame  and 
powerful  limbs.  She  was  not  the  least  afraid  of  him, 
and  he  was  never  tired  of  playing  with  her,  and  teas- 
ing and  petting  her. 

When  he  considered  that  they  were  sufficiently 
rested,  he  took  them  on  to  Cornwall.  There  was  a 
reserved  compartment  in  the  train  for  Mrs.  Treveryan 
and  Helen,  who  could  not  of  course  be  crowded  up 
with  other  people.  '  Expense,  my  dear  ?  What 
is  a  few  shillings  compared  with  your  comfort  ? 
Money  is  given  us  to  spend.'  At  Laneithin  Erroc's 
wife  and  child  found  another  warm  welcome. 
Margaret  was  at  the  door  as  soon  as  the  carriage 
drove  up,  and  her  face  was  a  welcome  in  itself.  It 
was  a  thoroughly  good  face,  handsome  and  honest 
and  kindly ;  and  both  mother  and  child  took  to  it  at 
once. 

They  remained  at  Laneithin  a  year,  the  strong 
Cornish  air  doing  wonders  for  little  Helen ;  and  then 
Mrs.  Treveryan  insisted  upon  returning  to  India.  The 
country  was  quieting  down,  and  Erroc  wrote  that  he 
hoped  she  would  soon  be  able  to  rejoin  him.  She 
would  go  out  to  Calcutta  again  and  wait  there  on  the 
chance. 

It  was  a  cruel  wrench.  Helen  was  three  years  old 
now,  and  as  pretty  a  child  as  one  could  wish  to  see, 
and  she  was  the  only  one.  It  was  bitter  to  think  of 
leaving   her,  even   at   Laneithin.      'In  a  few  months 


8  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

she  will  have  forgotten  me/  the  poor  mother  said  to 
herself,  with  an  aching  heart ;  '  she  will  never  really  be 
mine  again.'  During  that  last  sad  fortnight,  Mary 
Treveryan's  wistful  eyes  followed  the  child  unceasingly. 
Then  the  day  of  parting  came  ;  a  dark  wet  October  day, 
with  a  high  wind  from  the  sea ;  and  Mary  Treveryan 
kissed  for  the  last  time  the  sweet  serious  baby  face, 
unfastened  the  little  arms  from  her  neck,  and  went 
away  into  the  wind  and  the  rain  of  the  lonely  Cornish 
roads. 

Do  you  ever  think  what  those  partings  mean,  you 
happy  English  mothers  ?  They  are  going  on  around 
you  every  day.  Do  you  ever  think  what  it  is  to  hand 
over  to  others,  perhaps  to  neglect  and  unkindness,  the 
children  you  would  die  for,  and  to  go  away  out  of  their 
lives  ?  It  is  part  of  the  price  England  pays  for  her 
Indian  Empire ;  part  of  the  cruel  tale  of  blood  and 
tears.  But  it  is  not  you  who  pay,  so  it  matters 
nothing  to  you.  Stay  at  home  in  comfort,  and  thank 
God  that  you  are  not  as  other  women  are. 

A  year  later  Mary  Treveryan  was  at  rest  for  ever. 
She  lived  to  rejoin  her  husband,  and  to  spend  a  few 
happy  months  with  him ;  and  then  she  was  laid  in  her 
grave,  with  a  tiny  dead  form  by  her  side. 

After  her  death  Erroc  Treveryan  remained  some 
time  longer  in  India.  He  was  then  holding  an  im- 
portant post.  During  the  Mutiny  he  had  been  selected 
for  service  with  a  corps  of  irregular  cavalry  which  was 
being  organised,  and  before  the  end  of  the  campaign 


I  THE  TREVERYANS  OF  LANEITHIN  9 

he  was  commanding  it.  The  work  suited  him  well, 
and  he  speedily  became  a  marked  man.  When  the 
fighting  was  over,  Tr  every  an,  now  a  Brevet  Lieutenant- 
Colonel,  was  offered  the  charge  of  a  district  which  had 
been  one  of  the  centres  of  disaffection ;  and,  as  the 
appointment  seemed  to  offer  a  fine  opening,  he  accepted 
it.  At  that  time  the  nation  appeared  to  be  deeply 
interested  in  Indian  affairs ;  and  it  was  supposed  that 
the  transfer  from  the  Company  to  the  Crown  was  the 
inauguration  of  a  new  and  splendid  era.  Treveryan 
did  not  foresee  how  soon  India  would  be  forgotten 
again,  and  how  completely  he  was  cutting  himself  off 
by  entering  upon  an  Indian  career. 

Once  he  had  taken  up  his  new  duties  he  found  he 
could  not  leave  his  post  for  some  time ;  and  it  was  not 
until  eighteen  months  after  his  wife's  death  that  he  at 
last  obtained  furlough  and  returned  to  England. 

His  child  was  then  nearly  six  years  old.  She  was. 
a  pretty  little  girl,  with  large  serious  gray  eyes  and 
dainty  ladylike  ways;  but  apparently  as  strong  as  a 
child  could  be.  The  race  had  touched  its  mother 
earth,  and  was  springing  up  again,  healthy  and  vigor- 
ous. Helen  tyrannised  over  her  grandfather,  and  was 
spoilt  by  every  one  in  St.  Erroc  except  Margaret 
Treveryan,  whose  hand  was  as  firm  as  it  was  gentle. 
The  child  obeyed  her  to  the  letter,  and  thought  her 
quite  faultless. 

Helen  was  very  gracious  to  her  father.  She  took 
him  by  the  hand  and  introduced   him  to  everything 


10  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

and  everybody  at  Laneithin ;  to  the  servants  and  the 
garden,  and  the  horses,  and  the  cows,  and  the  pigs,  and 
to  her  big  retriever  Dash,  and  to  the  turkeys  and 
ducks  and  fowls,  and  all  the  surroundings  of  her 
country  home.  She  had  inherited  the  Treveryan  love 
for  animals,  and  her  aunt  had  strongly  encouraged  it ; 
so  that  Helen  was  on  terms  of  fearless  intimacy  with 
every  beast  and  bird  in  the  place.  Horses  that  could 
have  eaten  her  picked  the  bread  gently  from  her  tiny 
palm,  and  rubbed  their  heads  on  her  shoulder  when 
she  went  to  them  in  their  boxes :  the  ducks  waddled 
out  of  their  pool  under  the  ash  tree  when  she  passed 
by;  and  Dash  would  have  died  for  her  a  hundred 
times  over. 

Sometimes  Helen  took  her  father  out  in  the  yacht. 
The  Treveryans  had  sailed  the  Cornish  coast  for  many 
generations,  and  they  had  some  stirring  traditions  of 
war  and  adventure  at  sea.  Helen  was  to  the  manner 
born,  and  dehghted  in  being  afloat.  The  Dreadnought 
was  a  handy  little  cutter  of  about  fifteen  tons,  fit  for 
getting  into  and  out  of  all  sorts  of  places ;  and  her 
captain,  James  Tregenza,  was  a  steady  old  sea-dog  who 
knew  every  inch  of  the  coast  from  Plymouth  to  the 
Land's  End.  He  belonged  to  the  little  village  at 
Came  cove,  and  was  a  fisherman  by  early  training ; 
but  he  had  served  in  the  navy.  Tregenza  loved  the 
'  little  lady'  as  much  as  if  she  had  been  his  own  child, 
and  was  never  so  happy  as  when  he  had  got  her  on 
board. 


I  THE  TREVERYANS  OF  LANEITHIN  ii 

It  was  a  thoroughly  healthy  life,  and  the  father 
and  daughter  spent  a  happy  summer  ;  though  with 
him  there  was  always  present  the  sense  of  his  loss. 
If  only  he  could  have  seen  them  together,  the  little 
graceful  child  and  the  soft-eyed  patient  mother,  who 
had  loved  her  so  dearly,  and  left  her  for  his  sake.  To 
him  life  could  never  be  very  bright  again.  Erroc  was 
anxious  too  about  his  father.  Margaret  had  told  him 
of  her  doubts  as  to  money  matters ;  and  he  soon  saw 
that  she  had  some  cause  for  them.  However,  it  was 
very  pleasant  to  be  together,  and  for  all  at  Laneithin 
the  time  passed  happily  until  the  autumn,  when  Erroc 
went  back  to  India. 

For  the  next  eight  or  nine  years  Helen  remained  at 
Laneithin,  living  a  quiet  country  life,  and  learning 
from  'Aunt  Madge'  nothing  but  what  was  good. 
Margaret  Treveryan  was,  like  her  mother,  a  well- 
educated  and  accomplished  woman ;  and  her  influence 
and  teaching  were  just  what  a  girl  required.  Helen 
grew  up  straight  and  strong,  in  body  and  mind,  with 
refined  feelings  and  tastes,  and  a  complete  want  of 
affectation.  Aunt  Madge  taught  her  to  be  courteous 
and  considerate  to  all  men,  and  to  all  living  things : 
to  birds,  and  beasts,  and  flowers.  She  imbued  Helen 
with  her  own  gentleness  of  thought,  and  with  her  own 
chivalrous  old-world  pride  in  all  that  was  good  and 
noble.  She  taught  her  to  be  proud  of  the  Treveryans 
who  fought  so  well  for  King  Charles ;  to  be  proud  of 
Cornwall ;  to  be  proud  above  all  of  England,  and  the 


12  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

great  things  England  has  done.  She  taught  her  that 
cowardice  was  dishonourable,  even  in  a  woman ;  and 
that  anything  like  deceit  was  cowardly,  and  there- 
fore beneath  her — beneath  a  Treveryan.  She  taught 
her  in  fact  to  be,  in  the  truest  and  fullest  sense  of  the 
word,  a  lady.  And  she  taught  her  to  fear  and  worship 
God.  A  woman  without  religion  is  hardly  a  woman. 
As  for  the  less  important  matters  which  are  generally 
called  education,  Helen  got  on  well  enough.  It  was 
difficult  in  Cornwall  to  get  masters,  but  she  was  still 
young ;  and  with  the  help  of  a  good  governess  she 
learned  as  much  as  most  girls  learn  in  the  school- 
room. She  had  decided  talent  for  music,  like  most  of 
her  family,  and  promised  to  sing  well. 

At  fifteen  she  was  a  graceful  and  beautiful  girl ; 
a  child  still  in  many  waj^s,  and  rather  impetuous  in 
thought  and  speech,  but  very  taking.  She  could 
walk,  and  ride,  and  row,  and  she  could  steer  the 
Dreadnought  on  a  wind  very  nearly  as  well  as  old 
Tregenza ;  and  yet  she  was  above  all  things  gentle  and 
warm-hearted.  From  her  babyhood  she  had  possessed 
the  peculiar  charm  of  manner  which  makes  some 
women  attract  all  around  them.  Added  to  her  good 
looks  and  her  real  goodness  of  heart,  that  charm  was  ir- 
resistible. The  man  had  no  music  in  his  soul  who  could 
see  Helen  Treveryan  for  five  minutes  and  not  love  her. 
Even  Tregenza's  two  troublesome  boys,  the  wildest 
young  scamps  that  ever  sailed  a  boat,  would  do  any- 
thing for  the  little  lady  who  lectured  them  and  got 


I  THE  TREVERYANS  OF  LANEITHIN  13 

them  out  of  their  scrapes.  And  in  all  the  hospitable 
houses  of  the  most  hospitable  county  in  England 
Helen  Treveryan's  face  was  as  welcome  as  the  day. 
It  was  a  very  happy  girlhood. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  things  had  been  going 
from  bad  to  worse  with  the  Squire.  As  he  got  more 
involved,  he  seemed  to  grow  more  reckless,  and  larger 
in  his  views,  and  more  irritable  in  temper.  To  Helen 
he  was  always  kind  ;  but  at  times  he  spoke  sharply  to 
his  daughter,  who  was  obliged  to  trouble  him  for 
money.  He  got  a  worried  look  too,  and  lost  some  of 
his  old  heartiness  of  manner.  A  year  or  two  after 
Colonel  Treveryan  left  England  the  old  man  opened  a 
quarry  which  was  going  to  make  all  their  fortunes.  .  It 
failed  of  course,  after  a  considerable  sum  had  been 
sunk  in  getting  out  stone  and  constructing  a  tramway. 
The  place  was  inaccessible,  and  the  same  stone  could 
be  shipped  much  cheaper  elsewhere. 

For  some  time  after  that  the  Squire  was  more 
careful.  He  used  to  sit  and  make  models  in  his 
workshop,  or  go  out  sailing  with  his  daughter  and 
Helen.  They  were  very  happy  then.  He  was  so 
cheery  and  handsome  and  good;  like  a  big  courteous 
boy,  full  of  fun  and  mischief.  He  even  went  so  far  as 
to  admit  that  he  had  been  imprudent  about  money 
matters,  and  promised  to  be  very  cautious  in  future. 
Unfortunately  the  fit  did  not  last.  Margaret  saw  that 
he  was  getting  absorbed  again  in  some  scheme  about 
which  he  would  not  talk.     He  was  carrying  on  a  brisk 


14  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

correspondence ;  and  once  or  twice  he  went  away  for 
a  day  or  two. 

At  last  she  heard  what  had  happened  from  a 
woman  in  the  village,  who  spoke  as  if  the  thing  were 
generally  known.  The  Squire's  curiosity  had  been 
aroused  by  the  chance  discovery  of  a  disused  and  over- 
grown mine-shaft  on  the  edge  of  the  moor.  He  had 
set  to  work  to  search  the  ground;  and  had  almost 
immediately  found  what  he  expected.  Now  he  was 
convinced  that  it  only  required  a  little  money  to  open 
at  St.  Erroc  one  of  the  richest  tin  mines  in  Cornwall. 
He  would  soon  be  worth  millions. 

The  Squire  said  nothing  to  his  daughter.  He  knew 
she  should  be  afraid  of  the  scheme ;  and  he  did  not 
want  to  be  discouraged.  '  They  will  all  believe  in  me 
when  I  have  done  the  thing,'  he  thought ;  '  they  will 
see  the  old  man  was  right  then.  Meanwhile  it  is  no 
use  saying  anything  about  it.'  Margaret  did  not  press 
him,  but  she  grew  more  anxious  as  the  weeks  went  on. 

The  district  was  notoriously  a  bad  one  from  a  min- 
ing point  of  view ;  and  the  practical  experts  who  came 
down  to  examine  the  Squire's  discovery  looked  doubt- 
ful, and  showed  no  inclination  to  help  him.  Their 
caution,  or,  as  he  called  it,  their  stupidity,  only  made 
him  more  obstinate.  He  was  not  going  to  be  put  off 
like  that.  His  indignation  incited  him  to  tell  Mar- 
garet about  it ;  and  she  begged  him  to  be  very  careful, 
which  annoyed  him.  He  went  away  for  a  week,  and 
returned  one  evening  in  great  spirits,  bringing  with 


I  THE  TREVERYANS  OF  LANEITHIN  15 

him  a  pale,  thickset,  hook-nosed  man,  with  a  big  head 
and  broad  shoulders,  and  a  slight  foreign  accent,  whom 
he  introduced  to  his  daughter  as  Dr.  Stein,  and  de- 
scribed as  '  an  Austrian  mining  fellow,  who  knew  all 
about  it.  Come  down  to  see  that  find  of  mine,  you 
know.  He's  got  a  head  on  his  shoulders,  and  saw 
through  the  jealousy  of  the  other  fellows  at  once.' 

During  the  summer  of  1870,  while  all  Europe  rang 
with  the  clash  of  arms,  the  end  came  at  Laneithin. 
Pushed  on  by  Dr.  Stein,  the  old  Squire  had  got  to- 
gether every  halfpenny  that  he  could  raise,  and  had 
practically  put  the  whole  in  the  hands  of  his  guest. 
A  considerable  sum  was  really  spent  on  the  spot. 
The  greater  part  Stein  professed  to  be  spending  in 
London,  promoting  a  company.  This  required  a  heavy 
outlay ;  but  everything  was  going  well.  Success  was 
certain. 

One  morning  at  breakfast  the  Squire  received  a  letter 
which  he  opened  eagerly.  As  he  read  his  face  grew 
white,  and  an  awful  change  came  over  it.  Margaret 
looked  at  him  in  alarm. 

'  What  is  it,  father  ? '  she  said  anxiously. 

The  old  man  stood  up,  and  a  hoarse  inarticulate 
sound  broke  from  him.  The  letter  dropped  on  the 
table,  and  he  made  two  vain  attempts  to  pick  it  up 
again.  Margaret  and  Helen  were  by  his  side  at  once, 
and  Helen  picked  up  the  letter  and  gave  it  to  him. 
He  could  not  speak,  but  he  raised  his  left  hand  to  his 
mouth,  and  then  tried  to  walk  out  of  the  room. 


i6  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

With  the  help  of  the  servants  they  got  him  up- 
stairs, and  sent  for  the  doctor,  who  came  two  hours 
later. 

It  was  a  paralytic  stroke.  Dr.  Carlyon  hoped  all 
might  yet  go  well.  In  the  meantime  there  was  to  be 
no  mention  of  business,  nothing  to  excite  or  worry  the 
sick  man.  Alas !  he  bore  his  death-wound  in  his 
heart.  He  never  lost  consciousness,  and  after  the 
doctor  had  gone  he  succeeded  in  making  Margaret 
understand  that  she  was  to  read  the  letter.  As  she 
did  so,  he  lay  watching  her  face  with  eyes  of  pathetic 
anguish.  . 

It  was  a  cruel  letter:  Dr.  Stein  curtly  informed 
the  Squire  that  he  had  failed  in  his  efforts,  that  the 
money  was  all  spent,  and  that  he  was  leaving  England 
at  once.  There  was  hardly  an  attempt  at  further 
concealment. 

Margaret  put  down  the  letter  and  looked  at  her 
father.  His  mouth  was  trembling,  and  the  look  in  his 
eyes  was  more  than  she  could  bear.  'Never  mind, 
father  dear,'  she  said.  '  It  will  all  come  right.  Don't 
worry  yourself  about  it.  It's  only  a  little  money. 
What  does  that  matter  ? ' 

He  shook  his  head  despairingly.  He  knew  it  was 
hopeless.  In  the  presence  of  Death  the  Eevealer 
many  things  became  suddenly  clear  to  him.  He  lived 
only  a  few  weeks  longer.  For  a  time  he  recovered  in 
a  measure  the  use  of  his  speech,  and  his  head  seemed 
clear ;  but  he  would  accept  no  consolation.     He  had 


I  THE  TREVERYANS  OF  LANEITHIN  17 

ruined  them  all,  and  his  self-reproach  was  sad  to  see. 
While  his  son  was  on  the  seas  speeding  homeward, 
hoping  to  see  him  once  more,  the  old  Squire  was 
stricken  again  and  died.  The  end  came  quietly  ;  they 
hardly  knew  when  it  was  over.  He  was  laid  among 
his  own  people,  under  the  shadow  of  St.  Erroc  spire; 
and  all  who  had  known  him  were  sorry  for  his  death. 
He  had  lived  long  among  them,  with  a  handsome  face, 
and  an  open  hand,  and  a  kindly  heart. 

When  Colonel  Treveryan  came  he  found  things 
even  worse  than  he  had  feared.  How  his  father  had 
succeeded  in  raising  such  sums  of  money  he  could  not 
understand.  One  thing  was  clear,  that  with  the 
utmost  efforts,  by  letting  the  house  and  saving  every 
penny  he  could  save  henceforward,  he  could  harSly 
hope  in  his  lifetime  to  discharge  the  debt ;  and,  mean- 
while, if  he  died  his  sister  and  child  would  be  almost 
destitute.     It  was  ruin,  complete  and  crushing. 

While  he  was  reflecting  sadly  over  the  position,  he 
received  an  offer  which  gave  him  a  chance  of  getting 
out  of  his  difficulties.  A  rich  landowner  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood, who  could  afford  to  pay  a  fancy  price  for 
anything  he  wanted,  came  forward  at  this  moment  with 
a  proposal  to  buy  Laneithin.  At  first  Erroc  Treveryan 
shrank  from  the  idea  with  something  like  horror. 
Laneithin  had  been  in  the  family  nearly  three  hundred 
years.  He  could  not  let  it  go.  As  he  thought  on, 
however,  the  thing  assumed  a  different  aspect.  The 
price  offered  was  very  large,  much  more  than  he  could 

VOL.  I  c 


1 8  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  i 

have  hoped  to  get ;  and  after  all  what  would  he  gain 
by  refusing  it  ?  They  could  never  live  at  Laneithin, 
any  of  them,  and  he  had  no  son  to  keep  up  the  name. 
Was  it  right  in  the  interest  of  the  others  to  refuse  the 
offer  ?  The  brother  and  sister  talked  it  all  over  to- 
gether, with  many  fluctuations  of  feeling ;  and  at  last 
they  agreed  that  it  would  be  wisest  to  accept.  The 
old  home  must  go.  It  was  hard,  cruelly  hard ;  but  it 
was  the  right  thing  to  do. 

So  Laneithin  passed  away  to  other  hands,  and  the 
name  of  Treveryan  disappeared  from  St.  Erroc. 
Henceforth  their  place  would  know  them  no  more. 


CHAPTEK    II 

CHANGE    OF    SCENE 

When  Laneithin  had  been  sold,  Colonel  Treveryan 
went  back  to  his  work  in  India,  and  his  sister  took 
Helen  abroad.  France  and  Germany  were  locked  in 
their  death-struggle,  so  Helen  and  her  aunt  went  first 
to  Italy,  where  they  spent  a  very  pleasant  year.  .  A 
complete  change  was  the  best  thing  for  both  of  them  ; 
and  the  education  would  be  good  for  Helen.  They 
had  with  them  one  old  Laneithin  servant — Miss  Tre- 
veryan's  maid  Power,  a  little  brown-eyed  woman  who 
loved  her  mistress  from  the  bottom  of  her  honest 
heart,  and  had  petted  and  spoilt  Helen  ever  since  she 
first  saw  her.  She  followed  them  now,  and  would 
have  followed  them  to  the  world's  end. 

Altogether,  in  Italy  and  Switzerland  and  France, 
and  finally  in  Germany,  they  spent  four  years.  Once, 
for  a  few  months,  Colonel  Treveryan  joined  them,  and 
they  had  a  delightful  summer  about  the  Swiss  lakes. 
He  was  very  proud  of  his  daughter  now.  She  grew 
prettier  every  year,  and  her  voice  was  delightful ;  yet 
she  was  just  as  unaffected  and  natural  as  a  child.     It 


20  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

was  settled  during  his  visit  that  when  she  was  nineteen 
she  should  go  out  to  him  in  India,  and  that  Aunt 
Madge  should  go  too.  But  when  the  time  drew  near, 
the  doctors  interfered.  Since  they  had  left  Laneithin, 
Margaret  Treveryan's  health  had  never  seemed  so 
strong  as  before,  and  lately  she  had  suffered  acute  pain 
from  some  affection  of  the  heart.  She  was  now  for- 
bidden to  leave  Europe,  and  Helen  had  to  go  alone. 

She  went  with  a  painful  conflict  of  feeling.  She 
had  learned  to  love  her  father  during  his  visits  to 
Europe ;  but  Aunt  Madge  had  been  everything  to  her 
since  she  was  a  baby.  It  was  hard  to  leave  her,  even 
to  go  to  him ;  and  it  was  doubly  hard  to  leave  her  in 
failing  health.  Aunt  Madge  was  very  firm.  'No, 
dear,'  she  said.  'Your  first  duty  is  to  your  father. 
Don't  ever  let  him  know  you  had  the  slightest  hesita- 
tion about  it.  I  shall  miss  you  of  course ;  but  think 
how  lonely  his  life  has  been  for  the  last  ten  years.' 

'  But  you  are  not  well.  You  ought  not  to  be  left 
alone.' 

Aunt  Madge  smiled.  '  I  can  take  care  of  myself, 
and  Power  will  take  care  of  me.  I  might  live  for 
twenty  or  thirty  years.  You  could  not  stay  with  me 
indefinitely  because  I  am  not  perfectly  well.' 

A  few  weeks  later  Helen  had  said  good-bye  and 
sailed  for  India,  and  Aunt  Madge  had  settled  down  in 
a  tiny  house  at  Torquay,  where  she  had  been  advised 
to  go.  It  was  a  very  tiny  house,  for  she  was  troubled 
at  being  a  burden  on  her  brother ;  and  it  was  lonely. 


II  CHANGE  OF  SCENE  21 

Her  sister  had  died  long  before,  leaving  only  two  sons, 
who  had  grown  up  anything  but  agreeable.  Their 
father  was  a  rough,  rather  coarse-bred  man  ;  and  they 
seemed  to  have  taken  after  him  entirely.  There  was 
nothing  of  the  Treveryan  in  them.  In  the  old  times 
they  had  come  once  or  twice  to  Laneithin ;  but  they 
were  not  nice  boys,  and  Aunt  Madge  did  not  think 
them  good  companions  for  Helen.  There  was  no  one 
else  belonging  to  the  family. 

However,  Aunt  Madge  had  not  long  to  endure  her 
solitude.  She  began  to  lose  strength  fast.  She  seemed 
to  feel  that  her  work  was  over ;  and  though  she  was 
brave  and  cheerful  to  the  end,  she  had  no  wish  to  live. 
A  year  after  Helen  left  her  she  was  gone. 

It  was  not  until  then  that  they  knew  how  ill  she 
had  been.  She  would  never  let  Power  tell  them ;  and 
her  last  letter  was  as  beautifully  written  as  ever,  and 
as  full  of  brightness  and  interest  in  their  doings.  She 
died  as  she  had  lived,  thinking  of  others.  It  was  one 
of  those  lives  which  are  so  hard  to  understand.  As  a 
girl  Margaret  Treveryan  seemed  to  have  been  given 
everything  which  could  make  life  sweet :  beauty,  talent, 
education,  charm  of  manner,  a  true  warm  heart.  Then, 
at  two-and-twenty,  the  man  she  loved  was  taken  from 
her  by  a  miserable  accident ;  and  from  that  time  she 
never  seemed  to  think  of  herself  In  making  others 
happy  she  found  contentment ;  but  it  seemed  a  waste 
somehow,  a  waste  of  love  and  beauty,  and  capacity  for 
happiness. 


22  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

In  the  meantime  Helen  had  settled  down  in  her 
Indian  home.  Colonel  Treveryan  was  now  in  a 
prominent  position,  and  she  had  to  manage  his  house 
for  him.  It  was  difficult  work  at  first,  while  every- 
thing was  strange  to  her ;  but  she  soon  learnt  enough 
Hindustani  to  make  herself  understood  by  the  servants, 
and  the  other  ladies  helped  her  over  her  early  troubles. 
Before  she  had  been  two  years  in  India,  Colonel  Tre- 
veryan's  house  was  everything  it  should  have  been ; 
and  her  presence  had  brightened  his  life  to  an  extent 
which  he  could  never  have  believed  possible.  People 
said  he  had  grown  young  again. 

She  was  very  happy  too.  Her  father's  one  aim 
was  to  make  her  so ;  and  she  had  everything  the  heart 
of  a  girl  could  desire.  She  had  learnt  to  know  him 
thoroughly  now,  and  she  loved  him  as  much  as  if  they 
had  always  been  together;  she  could  hardly  believe 
at  times  that  they  had  not.  It  was  a  delight  to  her 
to  be  with  him  and  work  for  him ;  to  surround  him 
with  care  and  comfort ;  to  relieve  him  of  all  petty 
worries ;  and  to  make  his  house  pleasant  for  his  many 
guests.  He  had  cleared  off  all  the  Squire's  debts  by 
this  time,  and  there  was  plenty  of  money  for  every- 
thing; so  she  was  free  from  that  most  wearing  of 
troubles,  the  anxiety  about  ways  and  means.  The 
difficulty  was  to  prevent  her  father  from  spending  too 
much  on  her  and  her  pleasures.  He  had  given  her 
the  best  Arab  horse  he  could  get ;  and  had  brought 
out  for  her  all  the  way  from  England  a  beautiful  deer- 


II  CHANGE  OF  SCENE  23 

hound,  which  was  a  real  delight  to  her ;  and  he  was 
constantly  trying  to  find  out  something  she  wanted. 
It  was  not  very  prudent  perhaps,  for  his  income  would 
die  with  him ;  but  he  was  so  fond  and  proud  of  her, 
and  it  was  the  Indian  way  to  be  open-handed.  We 
have  changed  all  that  now.  The  Indian  Services  are 
half  ruined  by  the  fall  in  the  value  of  silver,  and  the 
old  open-handedness  is  dying  out  fast ;  but  it  was  the 
fashion  then. 

One  Sunday  evening  in  the  month  of  September,  a 
small  party  of  guests  were  gathered  round  Colonel 
Treveryan's  dinner-table.  It  was  an  understood  thing 
in  the  hot  weather  that  any  one  who  liked  to  come  in 
after  evening-church  could  do  so ;  and  generally  three 
or  four  men  availed  themselves  of  the  chance.  That 
night  some  of  the  officers  of  a  Hussar  regiment  which 
was  quartered  at  Syntia  had  driven  over  from  can- 
tonments. 

The  regiment  was  to  be  relieved  two  months  later ; 
and  the  conversation  at  dinner  turned  upon  this 
subject.  They  began  talking  about  the  Thirtieth 
Lancers,  who  were  coming  to  Syntia  in  their  place ; 
and  Colonel  Treveryan  said  he  knew  Colonel  Aylmer, 
who  commanded ;  they  had  served  together  in  the 
Mutiny.  One  name  after  another  was  mentioned,  and 
then  a  Major  Hodgson  said:  'The  only  one  I  know  well 
is  young  Guy  Langley.  He  comes  from  my  part  of  the 
country.  You  are  sure  to  like  him.  He  is  a  real  good 
boy ;  does  everything  well ;  and  a  handsome  fellow  too.' 


24  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  ii 

'  I  have  met  him.  He's  a  good-looking  fellow,' 
another  man  said  ;  '  but  he  puts  on  a  lot  of  side,  doesn't 
he?' 

'  Oh  no.  He  doesn't  mean  it.  He  really  is  a  very- 
nice  young  chap.      It's  only  the  Thirtieth  swagger.' 

Helen  sat  listening  in  silence.  '  I  shan't  like  him' 
she  thought;  and  she  pictured  to  herself  a  conceited 
young  gentleman  with  a  supercilious  manner.  She 
had  seen  some  like  that,  and  objected  to  them 
strongly. 

But  Guy  Langley  was  not  like  that.  The  idea 
one  forms  of  a  man  from  the  casual  conversation  of 
others  is  often  curiously  incorrect. 


CHAPTEE  III 

THE   LANGLEYS  OF   WRENTHAM 

The  Langleys  of  Wrentham  Hall  in  the  county  of 
Warwick  were  a  good  old  family,  with  some  reason  to 
be  proud  of  themselves.  They  were  not  the  original 
occupants  of  the  Hall,  which,  like  most  of  our  English 
country  houses,  had  changed  hands  more  than  once. 
The  Langleys  bought  it  from  a  family  of  the  name  of 
Blunt,  who  were  ruined,  like  many  others,  in  the  dis- 
graceful days  of  Charles  the  Second ;  when  the  Dutch 
were  burning  our  ships  in  the  Thames,  and  Society 
was  gambling  and  drinking  at  Whitehall.  John 
Langley,  the  first  of  the  name  at  Wrentham,  was  a 
London  merchant,  who  had  made  a  fortune  in  the 
Eastern  trade,  and  had  been  knighted  by  the  King  in 
return  for  a  loan  of  which  nothing  was  ever  more  heard. 
Sir  John  rebuilt  the  Hall,  which  was  then  a  picturesque 
Elizabethan  house,  or  rather  he  added  to  it.  The 
original  house  was  left  standing,  but  the  court  and 
subsidiary  buildings  were  cleared  away  from  the  front, 
and  in  their  place  arose  a  lofty  fagade  of  stone, 
with  narrow  windows  and  pointed  gables.     From  this 


26  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

block  two  wings  were  carried  backwards  to  meet  the 
projecting  wings  of  the  old  house,  and  the  whole  build- 
ing thus  assumed  the  shape  of  a  square,  the  original 
porch  and  front  looking  across  a  flagged  courtyard  into 
the  back  of  the  new  block.  Taking  a  hint  from  what 
he  had  found  at  Wrentham,  Sir  John  then  threw  out  a 
stone  portico  in  front  of  his  new  main  door,  and  a  walled 
court  in  front  of  the  portico.  A  panel  in  the  great  stone 
gateway  bore  the  representation  of  a  chained  leopard 
instead  of  the  bull's  head  of  the  Blunts,  which  was 
relegated  to  a  smaller  gateway  on  the  right  of  the 
court,  leading  into  the  garden.  The  stables  were  re- 
built just  outside  the  court,  also  to  the  right,  an  iron 
gateway  giving  access  from  the  court  to  the  stable-yard. 
Sir  John  Langley  had  been  struck  by  the  hall  of  the  old 
house,  with  its  muUioned  windows  and  high  oak  panel- 
ling, and  this  he  determined  to  reproduce.  His  new 
front  door  was  therefore  made  to  open  into  a  large 
panelled  hall,  at  one  end  of  which  was  a  wide  fire- 
place of  the  ancient  type,  and  at  the  other  end  a  broad 
oak  stair  leading  to  the  rooms  above.  For  the  sake  of 
warmth  the  front  door  was  covered  by  a  small  inner 
porch  or  anteroom,  which  projected  into  the  hall, 
breaking  the  stiff  outline  of  the  walls  and  forming  two 
pleasant  recesses  to  right  and  left  of  the  entrance. 
From  each  of  these  recesses  a  broad  carved  window 
with  cushioned  seats  looked  out  upon  the  court. 

A  walled   garden   lay  to   the  right  of  the  house, 
sloping  gently  towards  a  stream  a  hundred  paces  dis- 


Ill  THE  LANGLEYS  OF  WRENTHAM  27 

tant.  This  stream  turned  in  its  course  a  little  lower 
down,  and  the  road  leading  from  the  Hall  to  the  village 
of  Wrentham  crossed  it  by  a  massive  stone  bridge. 

After  the  time  of  Sir  John,  Wrentham  remained 
substantially  unchanged.  The  walls  became  mellowed 
in  colouring,  and  covered  in  parts  with  lichen  and 
moss  and  ivy ;  the  oaken  stairs  and  panelling  grew 
darker  and  darker ;  the  garden-wall  was  levelled,  and 
the  old  enclosed  garden  gave  place  to  a  smooth  slop- 
ing lawn  dotted  with  fine  trees  ;  while  flower-beds  and 
shady  walks  and  hothouses  gradually  grew  into  being 
beyond  the  stream ;  finally,  a  considerable  extent 
of  country  round  the  house  was  enclosed  and  turned 
into  a  park,  full  of  grassy  mounds  and  grand  old  troes 
and  pleasant  glades,  which  ran  up  into  the  bracken 
and  underwood  of  the  pheasant  covers.  But  substan- 
tially the  Hall  remained  as  Sir  John  Langley  had 
built  it,  only  improved  by  the  hand  of  Time,  and  the 
loving  care  of  successive  generations  of  occupants.  As 
a  specimen  of  architecture  it  was  very  far  from  perfect, 
and  at  times  a  stranger  might  have  thought  it  some- 
what gloomy ;  but  in  spring  or  summer,  when  the 
lawns  were  smooth  and  trim,  and  the  flower-beds  bright 
with  colour,  and  the  great  oaks  and  beeches  in  their 
glory,  a  man  would  have  been  hard  to  please  who  could 
find  fault  with  such  a  home.  It  was  a  thoroughly 
English  house,  such  as  no  country  but  England  can 
show,  and  fit  to  be  the  cradle  of  a  sturdy  English  race. 

The    Langleys    were    worthy   of   their    birthplace. 


28  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

They  could  not  boast  of  a  chivalrous  descent,  and  they 
had  made  no  great  mark  in  history;  but  they  had 
given  to  their  country  a  fair  number  of  stout  soldiers 
and  honest  country  gentlemen,  and  in  their  own  part 
of  England  their  name  stood  high.  At  the  same  time 
the  family  was  not  wealthy.  Since  the  days  of  Sir 
John  the  Langleys  had  never  made  money,  or  largely 
increased  their  possessions  by  marriage.  The  younger 
sons  had  been  obliged  to  seek  their  living  all  over  the 
world,  very  much  to  their  own  advantage  and  that  of 
the  world  as  well. 

That  evening  in  September  1876,  when  the  little 
Sunday  party  were  sitting  round  Colonel  Treveryan's 
table  at  Syntia,  the  sun  was  still  bright  in  the  English 
sky.  It  was  one  of  those  clear  exquisite  days  of 
early  autumn  when  the  north  wind  brings  with  it  a 
gentle  warning  of  the  dark  days  to  come. 

The  Langleys  were  gathered  about  the  open  hall 
door  in  readiness  for  their  usual  Sunday  ramble  across 
the  fields.  They  were  a  handsome  family.  Charles 
Langley,  the  master  of  the  house,  was  fully  sixty 
years  of  age,  but  he  was  still  a  man  to  be  envied  as 
he  stood  there  among  his  sons,  straight  and  broad- 
shouldered  and  powerful,  with  the  clear  eyes  and 
fresh  complexion  which  can  only  be  kept  by  a  healthy 
country  life.  His  wife  stood  near  him,  a  tall  graceful 
woman,  with  a  determined  face.  Lady  Mary  Langley 
was  the  granddaughter  of  a  successful  lawyer,  whose 
abilities  had  won  him  a  peerage.     His  son,  the  second 


Ill  THE  LANGLEYS  OF  WRENTHAM  29 

peer,  had  rendered  some  service  to  his  party,  aud  had 
been  rewarded  with  an  earldom.  When  he  died  in  his 
turn  he  left  behind  him  a  son  who  succeeded  to  the 
title,  and  a  daughter,  Lady  Mary,  who  inherited  little 
in  the  way  of  money,  but  a  large  share  of  the 
pertinacity  and  rather  imperious  temper  which  had 
distinguished  her  father  and  grandfather. 

When  she  married  Charles  Langley  he  was  a 
Captain  and  Lieutenant- Colonel  in  the  Guards,  and 
one  of  the  best -looking  men  in  the  service.  She 
never  rested  until  she  induced  him  to  leave  the  army, 
for  which  he  was  in  some  respects  well  fitted,  and  to 
enter  upon  a  political  career,  for  which,  as  he  well 
knew,  he  was  not  fitted  at  all.  She  succeeded  in 
getting  him  into  the  House,  but  there  her  success 
ended.  He  detested  the  life,  and  was  beyond  measure 
pleased  when,  after  a  couple  of  years  of  weary  drudgery, 
he  was  beaten  at  the  general  election  by  a  Eadical 
candidate.  Nothing  would  induce  him  to  stand  again  ; 
it  was,  he  said,  worse  than  being  in  jail.  There  at 
least  you  got  regular  meals  and  a  good  night's  rest ; 
in  the  House  you  got  neither.  Lady  Mary  did  her 
utmost  to  rouse  him  to  a  sense  of  what  she  described 
as  his  duty,  but  on  this  point  he  was  immovable ; 
and  at  last,  with  many  secret  tears  of  mortification 
and  anger,  she  was  forced  to  recognise  her  defeat. 
She  had  spoilt  a  good  soldier  in  Charles  Langley,  and 
she  could  make  nothing  else  of  him. 

The  two  girls,  Barbara  and  Evelyn,  had  much  of 


30  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

their  mother's  gracefulness,  but  with  more  of  the 
Langley  type,  the  fair  hair  and  blue  eyes  which 
were  so  common  in  the  family  pictures.  They  looked 
well  in  their  trim  gray  ulsters  and  honest  walking- 
boots  ;  and  they  were  thoroughly  good  girls,  well 
mannered  and  sensible  if  not  highly  accomplished. 
Their  brothers  were  like  them  and  each  other,  though 
not  cast  in  the  same  mould.  Henry,  the  eldest,  was 
a  typical  Langley  in  face  and  figure,  with  his  father's 
broad  shoulders  and  fair  colouring.  He  had  un- 
fortunately married  when  at  Oxford  a  woman  of 
humble  extraction  some  years  older  than  himself. 
Husband  and  wife  were  now  separated,  and  there 
were  no  children  of  the  marriage.  It  had  been  a 
severe  blow  to  Lady  Mary,  who  could  have  forgiven 
almost  anything  sooner  than  this ;  and  poor  Harry, 
who  was  a  good  fellow  at  bottom,  found  himself  so 
uncomfortable  at  Wrentham  that  he  did  not  care  to 
come  down  very  often.  He  lived  by  himself  on  his 
allowance,  which  was  liberal,  hunting  a  little  and 
shooting  a  good  deal,  and  getting  through  his  time 
with  tolerable  satisfaction  to  himself  and  not  much 
harm  to  any  one  else.  Guy,  the  second  son,  of  whom 
they  were  talking  in  India,  had  been  three  years  in 
the  army.  There  was  perhaps  a  touch  of  swagger 
about  his  manner,  which  was,  however,  singularly 
pleasant  and  winning;  and  his  tall  clean-cut  figure 
was  topped  by  a  well-shaped  head  and  handsome  face. 
He   was   like   his   mother;    but   his   features,  though 


Ill  THE  LANGLEYS  OF  WRENTHAM  31 

regular,  were  not  so  determined  in  their  expression. 
Guy  was  the  best  looking  and  cleverest  of  the  Lang- 
leys,  and  the  most  popular  with  men  and  women. 
Finally,  there  was  Eoland,  the  youngest  son,  a  good- 
looking  young  fellow  too,  but  perhaps  at  that  time 
the  least  attractive  of  the  family.  He  was  only  a 
couple  of  years  younger  than  Guy,  but  he  had  always 
been  more  or  less  delicate,  and  the  difference  seemed 
to  be  much  greater.  Eoland  had  done  better  at 
school  than  either  of  his  brothers,  and  had  left  Eton 
with  a  certain  conceit  about  him  which  Oxford  was 
not  eradicating.  Guy  disapproved  of  the  tone  Eoland 
had  brought  back  from  college ;  and  expressed  his 
disapproval  with  candour.  '  Eo,  you  are  an  infernal 
young  prig,'  he  said ;  '  you  ought  to  go  back  to  Jones's 
and  get  it  swished  out  of  you.  I  thought  you  would 
come  to  a  bad  end  when  you  began  to  bring  back  all 
those  beastly  prizes.  You  won't  do  us  any  credit  if 
you  go  on  like  this.'  And  Guy  had  set  to  work  in  a 
good-humoured  but  very  scientific  manner  to  'take 
Eo  down  a  peg.'  However,  Eoland  was  an  affectionate 
boy,  with  the  makings  of  a  man  in  him,  and  if  he 
was  inclined  to  be  priggish  he  had  some  excuse.  He 
had  been  the  most  prominent  oppidan  at  Eton ;  and 
his  tutor,  a  very  distinguished  classical  scholar,  who 
thought  the  highest  thing  in  life  was  to  be  a  school- 
master or  a  college  don,  had  said  to  him  at  parting, 
'  Well,  Langley,  I  am  glad  your  people  recognise  that 
you  are  too  good  to  be  wasted  on  the  army.' 


32  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

Most  families  fall  into  natural  subdivisions,  and 
the  Langleys  were  no  exception  to  the  rule.  Harry 
and  Barbara  had  always  been  firm  allies.  Evelyn 
and  Eoland,  though  given  to  sparring  with  each  other, 
never  failed  to  present  an  unbroken  front  to  an 
external  enemy.  Guy,  who  came  between  the  two 
pairs,  was  a  general  favourite,  but  he  was  from  the 
beginning  his  mother's  boy  and  had  taken  all  his 
childish  confidences  direct  to  her.  Now  it  was  his 
last  day  at  Wrentham,  and  Lady  Mary's  eyes  rested 
on  him  wistfully  as  he  stood  on  the  steps  in  the  sun- 
light, his  left  arm  carelessly  linked  in  Evelyn's,  and 
his  face  turned  towards  the  stable,  in  front  of  which 
two  or  three  dogs  were  barking  madly  and  straining 
at  their  collars,  hindering  by  their  impatience  the  boy 
who  was  trying  to  loose  them.  A  few  seconds  later 
they  were  racing  across  the  courtyard,  old  Saxon,  the 
deer-hound,  a  dozen  lengths  ahead  ;  and  after  a  stormy 
greeting  the  party  set  out  for  their  walk. 

*  Come  with  me,  Guy,'  his  mother  said,  and  she 
thought  with  a  sudden  pang  that  this  was  perhaps  the 
last  time,  the  last  of  so  many  since  he  had  been  a 
sunny-faced  baby  of  four.  How  well  she  remembered 
his  first  Sunday  afternoon  walk,  his  pride  at  his  pro- 
motion, and  his  scornful  refusals  to  admit  that  he  was 
tired.  'Twenty  years  ago,'  she  thought,  and  sighed. 
Then  she  repressed  the  feelings  that  were  crowding 
upon  her,  and  went  on  with  an  air  of  half- assumed 
disgust :  '  You  wretched  boys  !     Poisoning  the  pure  air 


Ill  THE  LANGLEYS  OF  WRENTHAM  33 

of  heaven  with  your  horrid  tobacco.'  Guy  laughed.  It 
was  an  old  subject  of  discussion  between  them,  and 
had  been  a  sore  subject  once ;  but  Lady  Mary,  like  a 
sensible  woman,  had  yielded  upon  this  point,  and  many 
others,  when  she  found  her  sons  growing  out  of  leading- 
strings.  *  You  know  you  like  it  really,  mother,'  he  said. 
'  I  had  hard  work  to  educate  you,  and  you  must  not  be 
ungrateful.'  She  answered  him  with  a  smile,  and  they 
passed  out  together  under  the  great  stone  gateway. 

It  was  a  walk  both  mother  and  son  often  thought 
of  in  after  years.  Away  in  India  Guy  would  sit  at 
times  with  a  far-off  look  in  his  eyes,  dreaming  of  the 
old  home,  and  that  afternoon  seemed  to  come  before 
him  with  special  clearness.  He  could  see  the  sunlight 
on  the  grass  slopes,  and  the  autumn  tints  on  the 
trees,  and  he  seemed  to  feel  again  the  still  cool  air 
just  touched  with  the  scent  of  the  coming  winter. 
And  his  mother  remembered  it  too,  poor  lady,  gazing 
out  upon  the  path  they  had  trodden  side  by  side, 
and  longing,  with  a  longing  that  was  physical  pain,  for 
one  look  of  those  straight  gray  eyes  and  the  ring  of 
the  cheery  voice.  The  walk  was  rather  a  sad  one. 
Charles  Langley  and  his  eldest  son  went  on  ahead, 
talking  of  the  pheasants  and  the  prospects  of  the 
hunting.  Lady  Mary  spoke  little.  The  young  people 
laughed  and  chatted  about  the  familiar  objects  they 
passed,  but  their  laughter  seemed  a  little  out  of  tune, 
and  once  or  twice  the  talk-  slackened  into  silence  in  a 
way  that  was  unusual  with  that  somewhat  noisy  family. 

VOL.  I  D 


34  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

When  their  heads  were  turned  homewards  the  breaks 
of  silence  became  longer,  and  by  the  time  they  arrived 
at  the  Hall  they  all  felt  tired  and  depressed. 

There  remained  a  couple  of  hours  before  dinner,  and 
Guy  strolled  off  to  spend  a  part  of  them  in  saying 
good-bye  to  his  friends  at  the  stables.  He  was  a 
favourite  with  man  and  beast,  and  his  welcome  was  a 
pleasant  one.  It  was  dark  when  he  finished  his  chat 
with  old  James  the  coachman  in  the  saddle-room,  and 
knocked,  as  he  had  promised  to  do,  at  the  door  of  his 
father's  study.  Charles  Langley  was  sitting  in  a  leather- 
covered  armchair,  with  his  feet  on  the  fender,  reading 
The  Field.  Early  as  it  was  a  fire  was  agreeable.  '  Well, 
Guy,'  he  said,  as  his  son  walked  into  the  room  and  drew 
a  chair  up  opposite  to  him,  *  so  you  are  off  to-morrow.' 

'  Yes,  father.' 

'  I  wish  you  could  have  stayed  in  England  a  little 
longer ;  but  you  are  quite  right  to  stick  to  your  regi- 
ment, though  your  mother  does  not  agree  with  me 
there.  I  don't  like  to  see  a  soldier  shirking  foreign 
service.' 

'  I  wouldn't  leave  the  regiment  for  anything  in  the 
world,'  Guy  answered  warmly ;  and  his  father  looked 
at  him  with  approving  eyes. 

'  You  are  all  right  about  money  ? ' 

'Yes.  I  owe  a  little,  but  not  more  than  I  can 
manage.' 

'  That's  right.  It's  a  stupid  thing  to  get  into  debt. 
All  the  same,  you  must  have  extra  expenses  just  now, 


Ill  THE  LANGLEYS  OF  WRENTHAM  35 

and  you  may  want  something  in  India  at  first,'  and  he 
took  a  closed  envelope  from  the  table  at  his  side  and 
handed  it  over  to  his  son. 

'  Thank  you,  father,'  Guy  said,  '  I  daresay  I  shall 
know  what  to  do  with  it ;  but  I  told  you  I  would  man- 
age on  my  allowance  if  you  let  me  go  into  the  cavalry. 
It  has  been  rather  a  tight  fit  sometimes,  but  I  have 
never  troubled  you,  have  I  ? ' 

''No,  never.  But  I  felt  sure  you  would  keep 
straight,'  his  father  answered ;  '  and  I  am  sure  you 
always  will,  about  everything  else  as  well  as  money.' 

Guy  did  not  reply,  and  there  was  a  pause  which 
neither  seemed  able  to  break.  Both  would  have  liked 
to  say  something  more,  but  both  were  embarrassed. 
Then  Charles  Langley  put  an'  end  to  the  silence  and 
the  interview. 

'  Hallo,'  he  said,  with  a  glance  at  the  clock  on  his 
mantelpiece ;  'it  is  time  to  dress  for  dinner.  I  did 
not  know  it  was  so  late.     I  never  heard  the  gong.' 

Guy  pushed  back  his  chair  slowly,  stood  for  a 
moment  in  front  of  the  fire,  and  then  walked  out  of 
the  room.  As  he  passed  behind  the  armchair,  he  laid 
his  hand  gently  upon  his  father's  shoulder.  Charles 
Langley  looked  round  with  a  smile  and  a  nod,  and  then, 
as  the  door  closed  and  the  sound  of  Guy's  footsteps 
died  away  down  the  passage,  he  sighed  and  stood  up. 
He  felt  that  they  should  have  been  more  to  one  another ; 
that  in  his  indolence  he  had  let  the  boy  drift  away  from 
him.     Now  it  was  too  late. 


36  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

After  dinner,  as  the  Langleys  sat  round  the  great 
fireplace  in  the  hall,  the  talk  and  the  laughter  were 
bright  enough.  It  was  a  way  they  had  in  all  but  the 
coldest  weather.  The  hall  was  a  fine  lofty  room,  the 
walls  covered  with  trophies  brought  back  by  sporting 
or  fighting  Langleys  for  generations  past.  Great  heads 
of  moose  and  bison  from  America,  the  tapering  twisted 
horns  of  Indian  and  African  antelopes,  and  swords, 
spears,  shields,  and  strange  old  firearms  were  mixed 
together  overhead ;  while  the  polished  wooden  floor 
was  half  covered  by  the  skins  of  tigers  and  leopards 
and  bears.  At  either  side  of  the  projecting  carved  fire- 
place stood  a  figure  in  full  armour,  supposed  to  have 
been  worn  by  some  of  the  bygone  Blunts.  These 
motionless  figures,  with  their  closed  helmets,  were  rather 
ghostly  companions ;  but  they  had  stood  there  ever 
since  the  days  of  Sir  John,  and  the  hall  which  they 
had  so  long  guarded  seemed  to  be  the  representative 
room  of  the  house  and  the  race.  It  was  the  room  the 
Langleys  dreamt  of  when  they  were  away ;  and  for  the 
adornment  of  it  the  boys  incurred  many  a  hard  day's 
work,  and  faced  many  a  danger. 

There  they  gathered  to  spend  their  last  evening  to- 
gether. Charles  Langley  and  Harry  sat  near  a  lamplit 
table  reading,  while  the  rest  grouped  themselves  about 
the  log-fire,  G-uy's  long  limbs  stretched  out  across  the 
bearskin  hearthrug,  and  his  head  resting  upon  a 
cushion  which  he  had  comfortably  disposed  against 
his   mother's   knees.     Nobody  but   Guy  would  have 


Ill  THE  LANGLEYS  OF  WRENTHAM  37 

dreamt  of  such  a  thing  in  that  house,  but  Guy  could 
do  anything.  For  an  hour  or  more  the  talk  and  the 
laughter  went  on,  Lady  Mary  alone  being  silent,  her 
hand  moving  softly  at  times  about  Guy's  head.  Then 
the  bell  in  the  courtyard  suddenly  rang  out  the 
summons  to  prayers.  Guy  got  up,  rather  unwillingly, 
and  they  all  passed  into  the  inner  room,  where  the 
servants  were  awaiting  them.  As  they  went  Eoland 
put  into  words  the  idea  which  had  struck  more  than 
one  of  them.  '  How  dreary  the  old  bell  sounds  to- 
night,' he  said  -in  a  rather  sentimental  tone,  '  as  if  it 
were  tolling  for  Guy's  departure.' 

Evelyn  turned  upon  him  with  sudden  wrath. 
'  What  an  idiot  you  are,  Eo,'  she  whispered  savagely. 
'  Can't  you  see  what  it  is  to  mother  ? '  and  he  went 
to  his  seat  feeling  hurt  but  penitent. 

Charles  Langley  read  a  few  verses,  and  then  they 
knelt  and  listened  again  to  the  beautiful  evening  col- 
lects, and  rose,  none  the  better  perhaps  some  of  them, 
but  quieted  and  calmed  by  the  solemn  words.  They 
generally  gathered  in  the  hall  again  when  prayers  were 
over,  but  that  night  Lady  Mary  could  stand  no  more. 
'  You  have  to  be  up  early,'  she  said,  laying  her  hand  on 
Guy's  arm  as  the  servants  left  the  room ;  '  go  and  have 
your  cigar,  and  come  to  my  room  for  a  minute  when 
you  are  going  to  bed.' 

So  they  broke  up,  the  girls  following  their  father 
and  mother,  and  the  young  men  going  off  to  change 
their  coats  and  assemble  in  their  den  in  the  east  wing. 


38  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

That  night  they  did  not  stay  long  smoking.  In 
less  than  an  hour  they  parted ;  Guy  walking  down  the 
passage  with  his  arm  over  Eoland's  shoulder.  '  Good- 
night, Eo,'  he  said,  as  they  stood  by  the  door  of  their 
mother's  room.  '  Be  a  good  boy,  and  don't  think  me 
a  beast  for  sitting  on  you.  It's  my  way,  you  know.' 
And  then,  as  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  boy's 
face,  he  turned  hastily  round  and  knocked  at  the 
door. 

When  Guy  left  his  mother  an  hour  later  he  had 
realised  more  clearly  perhaps  than  ever  before  the 
strength  of  her  love  for  him.  She  spoke  to  him 
quietly,  never  breaking  down  for  a  moment,  but  he 
saw  how  hard  it  was  to  her ;  and  when  at  the  last 
he  lifted  and  kissed,  as  he  used  to  do,  a  mass  of  the 
beautiful  brown  hair  which  hung  down  below  her 
waist,  she  threw  her  arms  round  him  with  such  a 
passionate  cry  that  he  was  startled.  '  Now  go,'  she 
said,  with  a  sudden  change  of  manner,  and  her  'good- 
night' sounded  hard  and  constrained. 

Guy's  room  looked  rather  desolate  with  his  little 
remaining  luggage  packed  ready  for  the  start,  but  he 
was  young  and  had  the  world  before  him,  and  he  was 
soon  asleep.  For  an  hour  afterwards  his  mother  sat 
before  the  fire  thinking  of  all  he  had  been  to  her.  I^ow 
and  then  a  smile  came  over  her  face,  but  for  the  most 
the  steady  brown  eyes  were  very  sad.  At  last  she 
shivered  and  got  up.  The  fire  was  almost  out  and  the 
room   felt  cold.      She   walked  across  to  her  dressing- 


Ill  THE  LANGLEYS  OF  WRENTHAM  39 

table,  and  stopped  a  moment  before  it.  Then  she 
lifted  up  the  mass  of  hair  that  Guy  had  kissed,  and 
cut  away  a  heavy  tress.  '  He  will  like  to  have  it 
when  he  is  away,'  she  said  to  herself,  '  my  own 
boy/ 


CHAPTEE    IV 

GUY    LANGLEY   LEAVES    ENGLAND 

The  London  train  which  Guy  wanted  to  catch  left 
Wrentham  Eoad  before  seven,  and  as  the  Hall  was 
four  miles  from  the  station,  the  household  was  astir  by 
candlelight. 

Guy  himself  woke  before  the  man  came  into  his 
room  with  his  clothes  and  hot  water.  He  opened  his 
eyes  with  a  sense  that  something  was  to  happen,  and 
though  his  next  thoughts  were  regretful,  there  was 
enough  novelty  in  the  prospect  to  make  it  not  alto- 
gether unpleasant.  He  lay  awake  for  a  few  minutes, 
thinking  of  the  past  and  all  his  happy  days  at  Wren- 
tham, but  thinking  more  of  the  future.  He  was  young, 
and  though  there  was  in  his  nature  a  poetic  element 
which  made  him  quick  to  feel,  yet  youth  and  health 
and  a  cheerful  temper  preserved  him  from  any  morbid 
excess  of  depression,  and  he  was  not  on  the  whole  un- 
happy as  he  threw  off  his  bedclothes.  There  was  a 
blazing  fire  in  the  grate,  for  the  nurse  who  had  looked 
after  him  as  a  child,  and  was  still  in  the  Langleys' 
service,  had  come  into  the  room  an  hour  before  and 


CHAP.  IV        GUY  LANGLEY  LEAVES  ENGLAND  41 

made  it  up  for   him,  determined   that  '  Master   Guy ' 
should  be  comfortable  to  the  last. 

Half  an  hour  later  he  was  in  the  dining-room, 
where  he  found  the  rest  of  the  family,  except  his 
mother,  assembled  to  see  the  last  of  him.  It  was  a 
cold  gray  morning,  and  Guy  felt  little  inclination  to 
eat.  With  the  faces  of  his  brothers  and  sisters  about 
him  he  had  a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling,  and  his  heart 
sank  as  the  thought  came  across  him :  '  I  wonder  when 
we  shall  all  be  here  again  together.'  Eoland  had  given 
expression  to  the  same  thought  just  before  he  came 
down,  and  the  remark  had  been  received  in  silence. 

Now,  in  spite  of  his  father's  cheery  voice,  Guy  felt 
low-spirited,  and  wished  that  it  were  all  over.  Yet 
he  lingered,  sipping  his  tea,  and  shrinking  from  the 
pain  that  he  knew  he  must  go  through  in  his  mother's 
room, until  Charles  Langley  looked  at  his  watch.  'I  don't 
want  to  turn  you  out  of  the  house,'  he  said,  '  but  I  heard 
the  dog-cart  come  round  ten  minutes  ago,  and  you 
have  not  much  time  to  say  good-bye  to  your  mother.' 

Guy  left  the  room  and  walked  slowly  upstairs. 
He  had  expected  a  painful  parting,  and  painful  in  a 
sense  it  was ;  but  she  had  nerved  herself  to  go  through 
it,  and  was  resolved  that  no  weakness  on  her  part 
should  make  matters  harder  for  him.  He  was  con- 
scious of  a  feeling  of  relief  as  he  saw  her  standing 
ready  to  receive  him,  perfectly  composed,  with  a  smile 
on  her  face.  '  I  thought  you  were  going  off  to  India 
without  coming  near  me,*  she  said,  as  he  stooped  and 


42  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

kissed  her.  '  Now  you  must  not  stay  long,  or  you  will 
miss  your  train.  I  know  that  new  mare  Harry  got  for 
us  takes  a  good  deal  longer  to  do  it  than  old  Tom 
Brown.  I  hope  we  shall  have  taught  her  to  trot  by 
the  time  you  come  back.'  Then  she  took  up  a  little 
packet  off  her  dressing-table.  '  Only  some  of  my  hair, 
Guy.  I  thought  you  would  like  to  have  it.  God 
bless  you,  my  boy.     Good-bye.' 

'Good-bye,  mother  dear.  Don't  be  unhappy.  I  shall 
be  back  soon.' 

She  held  him  for  a  moment  and  looked  in  his  face, 
as  if  to  fix  in  her  mind  the  remembrance  of  every  line, 
then  kissed  him  with  a  stifled  sob,  and  let  him  go. 

Three  minutes  later  the  wheels  of  Guy's  dog-cart 
were  crunching  the  gravel  at  the  end  of  the  courtyard. 
He  hardly  knew  how  he  had  got  there ;  but  as  he 
drove  through  the  gateway  he  looked  back  over  his 
shoulder  and  saw  his  father  and  brothers  on  the  steps 
under  the  porch,  and  the  faces  of  the  girls  at  the  win- 
dow by  the  side  of  it. 

That  day  was  a  dreary  one  at  the  Hall.  There  was 
a  general  sense  of  slackness,  and  a  disinclination  to 
settle  down  to  anything.  Lady  Mary  did  not  appear 
till  lunch-time,  and  then  she  looked  white  and  spoke 
little.  The  afternoon  dragged  heavily,  the  more  so 
that  most  of  the  family  had  got  up  in  the  morning 
some  hours  before  their  usual  time.  It  was  not  until 
another  night  had  passed  over  that  things  really  began 
to  go  on  again  in  their  usual  way. 


IV        GUY  LANGLEY  LEAVES  ENGLAND        43 

It  must  be  confessed  that  in  the  meantime  Guy's 
spirits  were  not  at  a  very  low  ebb.  The  rapid  drive 
through  the  morning  air  was  exhilarating.  The  new 
mare,  though  a  little  raw,  and  inclined  to  shy  and 
break  on  small  provocation,  was  a  really  well-bred  one ; 
and  with  a  light  cart  behind  her  she  got  over  the 
ground  very  creditably.  Guy  knew  and  liked  a  good 
horse,  and  it  was  a  real  pleasure  to  him  to  make  the 
little  chestnut  go  as  she  should  go.  By  the  time  he 
arrived  at  the  station  they  were  on  the  best  of  terms, 
and  he  was  thinking  more  of  her  trotting  than  of  any- 
thing else.  '  She  will  do,  Charles,'  he  said  to  the 
groom,  as  he  handed  over  the  reins  and  got  down. 
'  Take  her  home  quietly.  Good-bye.  I  shall  be  back 
in  England  before  long,  I  expect.' 

'  Good-bye,  sir.     I  hope  you  may,  sir.' 

The  train  was  punctual,  and  Guy  had  not  much 
more  than  enough  time  to  get  his  ticket  and  see  to  his 
luggage,  which  had  been  sent  on  in  advance.  Some- 
how he  never  could  travel,  even  for  a  day  or  two, 
without  a  large  amount  of  it.  He  settled  himself 
comfortably  in  the  corner  seat  of  an  empty  carriage, 
with  his  rug  tucked  round  his  legs,  and  early  as  it  was 
lit  a  long  cigar.  Having  fairly  started  it  he  sat  back 
with  a  sigh  of  contentment,  and  began  to  think. 

Naturally  his  mind  soon  reverted  to  his  mother 
and  her  farewell.  His  eyes  softened  as  he  pictured 
her  standing  in  her  room,  as  he  had  last  seen  her. 
*  Dear  old  mother,'  he  thought,  *  how  plucky  she  was.' 


44  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

Then  he  remembered  the  packet  she  had  given  him, 
and  felt  hastily  in  his  pocket  for  it.  He  found  it  and 
took  it  out,  and  put  it  away  in  his  dressing-case. 
That  done  he  sat  back  again,  and  his  thoughts  gradu- 
ally drifted  away  to  other  matters.  Before  the  train 
reached  Paddington  they  had  travelled  over  a  great 
variety  of  subjects,  and  on  the  whole  with  satisfaction 
to  liimself.  He  had  every  reason  to  be  content  with 
his  condition  in  life.  He  was  barely  four-and-twenty, 
and  in  perfect  health,  with  a  large  capacity  for  enjoy- 
ment, and  nothing  to  prevent  his  taking  full  advantage 
of  it.  Compared  with  some  of  the  other  men  in  the 
regiment  he  was  not  well  off;  but  one  of  his  father's 
sisters  had  left  him  two  hundred  a  year,  and  his  father 
allowed  him  a  similar  sum,  so  that  he  could  count  on 
four  hundred  a  year  besides  his  pay.  This  was  not 
wealth,  but  with  care  he  could  make  it  do.  At  the 
present  moment  he  had  in  his  dressing-case  his  father's 
cheque  for  a  sum  which  would  pay  off  all  he  owed 
and  leave  him  a  good  balance  in  hand  to  start  with. 
He  liked  the  best  of  everything,  and  he  had  the  in- 
stinctive open-handedness  of  the  English  gentleman  ; 
but  he  was  not  extravagant  and  rarely  wasted  money. 
He  could  therefore  live  in  his  regiment  without  dis- 
comfort. Good-looking  and  popular  and  heartwhole, 
with  no  serious  cause  of  sorrow  or  self-reproach  in  his 
past  life,  how  could  he  help  being  happy  ?  Happy  he 
was,  and  looked,  as  he  stepped  out  on  the  platform  at 
Paddington,  and  proceeded  to  gather  his  effects  together 


IV        GUY  LANGLEY  LEAVES  ENGLAND        45 

with  the  help  of  a  porter,  who  had  marked  through  the 
window  his  good-tempered  face  and  generally  prosper- 
ous appearance,  and  had  at  once  set  him  down  as 
'  good  for  a  bob/ 

The  next  few  hours  were  spent  in  town.  He  had 
still  to  make  one  or  two  purchases  to  complete  the 
outfit  which  he  thought  necessary  for  a  residence  in 
the  East ;  and  there  were  some  solemn  parting  words 
to  be  said  to  the  tailor  and  bootmaker  whom  he  could 
not  hope  to  see  again  for  months  or  years.  These  and 
other  farewell  visits  over,  he  made  his  way  to  Water- 
loo, and  the  same  evening  he  found  himself  once  more 
seated  at  the  regimental  mess. 

Two  or  three  days  later  Guy  was  standing  on  tbe 
quarter-deck  of  the  Ganges,  one  of  our  Indian  troopers, 
watching  the  English  coast  disappear  in  the  haze  as 
the  great  ship  steamed  away  down  channel  towards 
the  open  sea.  She  bore  away  with  her  the  Thirtieth 
Lancers,  five  hundred  strong,  and  some  drafts  for  other 
regiments,  and  a  few  stray  officers  who  were  going  out 
to  rejoin  their  several  corps  in  India. 


CHAPTEE   Y 

THE    THIRTIETH    LANCERS 

The  Thirtieth  Lancers  was  one  of  the  most  popular 
regiments  in  the  service.  Colonel  Aylmer,  who  was 
taking  it  out  to  India,  had  the  reputation  of  being  an 
excellent  commanding  officer.  Though  a  comparatively 
young  man,  little  more  than  forty,  he  was  by  no  means 
a  young  soldier.  When  a  boy  he  had  served  in  the 
Crimea,  and  had  even  then  distinguished  himself  by 
his  coolness  and  courage.  Afterwards  he  had  seen 
service  in  the  Indian  Mutiny  and  in  China.  He  wore 
several  medals  and  decorations,  and  among  them  the 
one  which  every  true  soldier  covets  above  all — the 
Cross  '  for  valour.'  He  had  won  it  in  the  dark  days 
of  1857,  by  riding  single-handed  at  a  knot  of  native 
troopers  who,  in  the  confusion  of  a  surprise,  had  sur- 
rounded and  almost  despatched  an  English  officer. 
Colonel  Aylmer  was  a  fine -looking  man,  spare  and 
soldierly,  with  a  peculiarly  attractive  face  and  courteous 
manner.  His  heavy  moustache  and  close- cropped  hair 
were  hardly  touched  with  gray;  and  when  in  the 
saddle,  with  his  easy  seat  and  upright  youthful  figure, 


CHAP.  V  THE  THIRTIETH  LANCERS  47 

he  looked  the  model  of  a  sabreur.  As  a  cavalry  leader 
he  had  few  equals.  He  knew  exactly  what  horsemen 
could  do  and  what  they  could  not  do,  and  was  as 
careful  as  he  was  bold. 

The  senior  Major,  ^  Bob '  Dangerfield,  was  a  man  of 
good  abilities,  and  an  exceptionally  sound  judge  of  a 
horse,  but  rather  too  heavy  for  a  cavalry  soldier.  He 
was  not  however  a  bad  officer,  and  he  was  popular  in 
the  regiment,  for  he  was  open-handed  and.  good- 
natured.  If  he  had  been  a  little  less  fond  of  good 
living,  and  a  little  slighter  about  the  waist,  he  would 
have  been  more  efficient,  but  you  cannot  have  every- 
thing. The  junior  Major  was  a  big  fighting  English- 
man, of  the  heavy  dragoon  type,  with  a  huge  yellq^ 
moustache  and  a  bald  head,  which  gave  him  rather  a 
German  look.  He  rode  as  no  man  of  his  size  and 
weight  has  a  right  to  ride ;  and  he  was  generally 
known  as  the  Baby.  He  was  a  merry  companion,  and 
champagne  seemed  to  have  no  more  effect  upon  him 
than  water. 

The  Adjutant  of  the  Thirtieth  was  perhaps  the 
keenest  soldier  in  the  regiment.  Succeeding  to  an 
earldom  before  he  was  out  of  long  clothes,  he  had  set 
aside  the  appeals  of  his  mother  and  friends  and  insisted 
upon  entering  the  army.  He  was  now  one  of  the 
smartest  Adjutants  the  Thirtieth  had  ever  had,  con- 
versant with  every  detail  of  his  profession,  and  an 
enthusiastic  cavalry  man,  convinced  that  British  horse- 
men well  led  could  do  anything  in  the  world,  from 


48  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

riding  down  unbroken  infantry  to  boarding  an  ironclad. 
The  men,  who  always  love  a  lord  when  he  is  at  all 
lovable,  and  often  when  he  is  not,  idolised  Lord 
Enleigh  and  would  have  followed  him  anywhere.  His 
brother  officers  liked  him  too,  but  some  of  them  were 
a  little  inclined  to  vote  him  a  nuisance,  and  to  sneer  at 
his  enthusiasm  which  was  a  rebuke  to  themselves. 
Some  of  the  wilder  spirits  too  resented  the  extreme 
courtesy  and  gentleness  of  his  manner,  which  perhaps 
savoured  a  little  of  affectation. 

Of  the  other  Captains  the  two  whom  Guy  Langley 
knew  best  were  St.  Orme  and  Beresford.  The  first, 
St.  Orme,  looked  and  spoke  as  if  he  had  stepped  from 
a  novel  of  Dumas.  He  was  a  tall,  rather  loosely  built 
man,  who  wore  his  fair  moustache  fiercely  twisted 
upwards,  and  affected  in  all  respects  the  manners  and 
conversation  of  the  typical  hussar.  Both  men  and 
women  liked  him,  for  his  magnificent  swagger  was  in 
no  way  offensive,  and  it  was  known  to  be  accompanied 
by  the  reckless  courage  which  belonged  to  the  part. 
St.  Orme  did  not  profess  to  have  deeply  studied  the 
science  of  war.  That,  he  would  tell  you  in  a  fine  deep 
voice,  rolling  his  r's,  and  speaking  from  the  back  of 
his  throat,  was  all  infernal  nonsense.  The  British 
cavalry  in  old  days  had  not  learned  to  fight  by  reading 
books.  Then  he  would  swagger  away,  showing  a  great 
deal  of  cuff  and  collar,  with  his  trousers  ostentatiously 
turned  up,  as  was  then  the  fashion.  Some  people  did 
not  take  St.  Orme  quite  seriously,  thinking  that  the 


V  THE  THIRTIETH  LANCERS  49 

cuffs  and  the  collar  and  the  rest  of  the  properties  were 
the  whole  man.  In  this  they  were  wrong,  for  he  was 
a  fine  fellow.  His  '  get  up '  was  merely  a  correct  and 
necessary  portion  of  the  performance.  George  Beres- 
ford,  generally  known  as  '  Berry,'  was  an  Irishman,  or 
rather  what  the  Irish  of  the  present  day  would  call 
one  of  the  English  garrison.  His  laughing  eyes  were 
very  blue  indeed,  and  his  face  was  burnt  by  constant 
exposure  to  a  deep  brick -red.  He  had  a  strong  though 
hardly  an  elegant  seat  on  horseback,  and  gave  promise 
of  turning  out  a  bold  and  capable  soldier  when  his 
natural  daring  and  dash  should  be  regulated  by  experi- 
ence. Berry  had  begun  his  career  in  an  infantry 
regiment,  but  had  eventually  induced  his  father  to  let 
him  exchange  into  the  cavalry.  He  explained  that  he 
really  could  not  *  march.'  If  a  fellow  had  been  in- 
tended to  march  he  would  have  been  given  four  legs. 
The  argument  was  a  little  confused,  but  it  served  its 
purpose,  and  before  long  Berry  was  one  of  the  cheeriest 
spirits  in  the  Thirtieth  Lancers. 

One  of  the  subalterns,  Denham,  was  Guy  Langley's 
special  aversion,  and  the  most  unpopular  man  in  the 
regiment.  How  he  came  to  get  into  the  Thirtieth  no 
one  knew,  and  it  was  not  easy  to  understand  why  he 
had  entered  the  service  at  all.  He  was  dark  and 
slight,  more  like  an  Italian  than  an  Englishman  in 
appearance,  and  extremely  reserved.  No  one  ever 
heard  Denham  speak  of  his  people,  though,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  he  had  nothing  to  conceal.      He  held  himself 

VOL.  I  E 


50  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

apart,  making  no  intimate  friends,  and  giving  no  one 
the  right  to  treat  him  with  familiarity.  In  his  way  he 
was  a  good  officer,  cool  and  ready  on  parade,  and 
thoroughly  versed  in  the  ordinary  duties  of  his  profes- 
sion. So  far  as  his  work  was  concerned,  he  rarely  laid 
himself  open  to  criticism,  or  failed  to  do  well  whatever 
was  required  of  him.  He  was  a  beautiful  horseman, 
and  one  of  the  best  steeplechase  riders  in  the  army. 
Yet  Denham  was  essentially  unpopular,  both  with 
officers  and  men.  The  former  never  felt  that  they 
knew  him  better  than  at  first,  and  they  resented  his 
reserve  and  cynicism.  The  latter,  though  he  never 
lost  his  temper  with  them,  disliked  him  cordially. 
They  felt  that  he  despised  them,  as  indeed  he  did. 
He  regarded  the'  British  soldier  as  a  drunken  brute, 
and  the  feeling  showed  very  plainly  through  his  level 
manner.  Denham  had  never  owned  a  dog,  and  never 
touched  one  if  he  could  help  it.  He  said  dogs  were 
dirty,  as  they  doubtless  are.  Curiously  enough  he 
was  not  unpopular  with  women.  He  seemed  to  interest 
them,  and  they  admired  his  dark  eyes  and  swarthy 
skin.  Perhaps  his  apparent  indifference  to  their 
beauty  attracted  them.  He  could  dance  well,  when 
he  chose,  which  he  rarely  did. 

A  strong  contrast  to  Denham  was  little  Hugh 
Dale,  one  of  the  junior  subalterns  and  Guy's  insepar- 
able companion.  They  had  been  gazetted  to  the 
Thirtieth  within  a  few  months  of  each  other.  '  Chimp,' 
as   they  called  him  at  Harrow  for   obvious   reasons. 


V  THE  THIRTIETH  LANCERS  51 

was  short  but  strongly  built,  with  a  plain  face  which 
no  one  could  help  liking.  It  was  a  bright  and 
thoroughly  honest  face,  with  good  brown  eyes  and 
white  teeth,  and  a  keen  merry  expression.  Physically 
Chimp  was  'good  all  round.'  Hard  and  quick,  and 
practically  in  constant  training,  for  he  rarely  drank 
and  never  smoked  and  was  always  on  his  legs.  Chimp 
could  probably  have  thrashed  any  man  in  the  regi- 
ment. He  could  jump  very  nearly  his  own  height ; 
and  could  run  in  very  fair  time  any  distance  from  a 
hundred  yards  to  a  mile.  He  was  an  exceptionally 
pretty  bat,  without  much  reach,  but  with  a  good  eye 

and  great  quickness  and  pluck.      It  was  very  hard 

• 
indeed  to  bowl  him,  and  if  once  he  got  set  and  began 

hitting,  the  other  side  had  a  bad  time  of  it.  In  the 
field  he  was  equally  useful,  a  smart  point,  and  not  bad 
at  the  wicket,  worth  having  anywhere.  He  could 
bowl  too  to  a  certain  extent.  In  fact,  there  was 
nothing  in  the  way  of  athletic  exercises  that  came 
amiss  to  him.  He  could  ride  of  course,  not  very 
scientifically  perhaps,  but  very  hard  and  straight. 
Chimp's  two  main  characteristics  were  keenness  and 
pluck.  He  was  always  ready  to  do  anything,  and  he 
would  go  till  he  dropped.  His  weakest  point  was  his 
language.  It  was  the  language  of  a  boy,  and  alto- 
gether too  simple  for  the  expression  of  complex 
emotions.  He  disliked  books,  though  he  was  by  no 
means  wanting  in  practical  brains.  Finally,  he  was  a 
thorough  little  gentleman  in  his  feelings  and  an  almost 


52  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

universal  favourite.  His  two  great  objects  of  admira- 
tion and  love  were  his  father  and  Guy  Langley.  The 
former  was  an  ofi&cer  who  had  once  commanded  the 
Thirtieth,  and  was  still  well  known  to  the  regiment. 
He  was  a  rich  man,  and  almost  alone  in  the  world, 
so  that  his  son  was  kept  well  supplied  with  money, 
which  he  spent  royally  to  the  old  General's  entire 
satisfaction. 

The  other  subalterns  of  the  Thirtieth  were  in  their 
several  ways  a  delightful  set  of  boys,  of  the  usual 
pattern.  Who  does  not  love  the  British  subaltern  ? 
Is  there,  on  the  whole,  anything  in  the  world  to  equal 
him  ?  As  wild  as  a  hawk,  but  so  full  of  good  feeling 
and  honour,  and  so  gloriously  reckless  of  life  and  limb. 
Our  officers  are  better  than  any  other  officers  in  the 
world  if  we  only  would  believe  it.  They  cannot  help 
beins^  so.  There  is  no  material  in  creation  like  the 
English  boy. 

As  for  the  men,  the  Thirtieth  had  in  1876  a  large 
number  of  old  soldiers,  and  the  discipline  was  admir- 
able. Lancers  always  look  well,  for  their  uniform  and 
their  arm  are  greatly  in  their  favour,  but  the  Thirtieth 
looked  better  than  most.  The  men  were  perhaps  a 
little  big  for  rough  work ;  but  they  were  steady  and 
smart  on  parade ;  and  altogether  it  was  a  beautiful 
regiment,  and  certain  in  Colonel  Aylmer's  hands  to 
distinguish  itself  if  sent  on  active  service.  Throughout 
all  ranks  there  was  a  feeling  of  content,  of  respect  for 
their  commanding  officer,  and  of  pride  in  their  corps. 


V  THE  THIRTIETH  LANCERS  53 

There  were  not  many  ladies  with  the  regiment 
when  it  sailed  for  India,  but  there  were  two  or  three 
of  marked  individuality. 

Mrs.  Aylmer,  the  Colonel's  wife,  was  almost  as 
much  liked  as  her  husband,  and  rather  more  feared. 
She  was  a  few  years  younger  than  he  was ;  small  and 
slight,  with  steady  gray  eyes  and  a  low  forehead,  from 
which  the  hair  was  brushed  off  in  a  thick  smooth  wave. 
Mrs.  Aylmer  was  always  perfectly  dressed,  and  her 
manners  were  those  of  a  gentlewoman  born  and  bred. 
She  feared  no  living  thing,  and  was  an  uncompromising 
opponent,  but  a  most  warm  and  loyal  friend.  A  truer 
woman  never  stepped ;  but  she  expected  you  to  be 
quite  honest  with  her.  Anything  approaching  di^ 
honesty  or  cowardice  she  met  with  a  quiet  but  undis- 
guised contempt  which  was  extremely  disconcerting. 
The  Aylmers  had  one  child,  a  daughter  about  six  years 
of  age,  who  would  have  been  hopelessly  spoilt  if 
universal  petting  could  have  spoilt  her.  She  was  a 
pretty  child,  with  her  father's  light  brown  hair  and 
blue  eyes,  but  she  had  inherited  or  caught  from  her 
mother  a  certain  directness  and  self-possession  of 
manner  which  in  so  small  a  person  were  odd  and 
captivating.  Mrs.  Aylmer  was  the  only  person  who 
kept  her  in  order. 

Mrs.  Dangerfield  was  a  strikingly  handsome  woman 
in  a  rather  animal  way,  with  large  dark  eyes,  red 
lips,  and  a  faultless  figure,  and  a  very  merry  wit. 
There  had  been  something  a  little   doubtful  about  her 


54  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

past  life,  and  though  society  had  now  agreed  to  over- 
look it,  she  was  made  to  feel  in  numberless  little  ways 
that  her  antecedents  were  not  altogether  forgotten  by 
her  lady  friends.  The  best  of  them  were  not  intimate 
with  her,  and  the  others  were  occasionally  unpleasant. 
Naturally  enough  she  preferred  the  society  of  men, 
who  were  more  charitable  and  less  particular.  With 
them  she  was  a  favourite,  and  not  without  reason ; 
for  she  was  bright  and  good-looking,  and  though 
perhaps  a  little  canaille  she  had  a  good  heart.  Men 
always  like  that  combination  of  qualities :  the  women 
who  are  '  pretty  and  witty,  wild,  and,  yet  too,  gentle.' 
Mrs.  Dangerfield  rarely  if  ever  spoke  unkindly  of 
others,  even  of  those  who  had  treated  her  badly.  For 
an  intentional  slight  or  insult  she  would  retaliate  by 
some  act  of  open  warfare  which  generally  left  her  with 
the  balance  in  her  favour.  That  done  the  matter  was 
forgotten  or  at  least  forgiven,  until  some  fresh  pro- 
vocation was  offered.  She  was  perfectly  reckless  of 
appearances,  but  capable  of  behaving  properly  when 
she  thought  it  desirable  to  do  so;  and  even  at  her 
worst  you  could  hardly  say  that  she  was  unladylike. 
Hers  was  a  wild  untamed  nature,  in  which  the  animal 
qualities  predominated  over  the  intellectual ;  but  she 
was  not  vulgar. 

Mrs.  Stewart,  the  wife  of  one  of  the  senior  Captains, 
was  a  woman  of  an  altogether  different  stamp.  She 
was  handsome  too,  in  a  picturesque  style,  with  volu- 
minous  plaits   of  copper -coloured   hair,  and   a   com- 


V  THE  THIRTIETH  LANCERS  55 

plexion  of  unusual  purity,  which  was  rendered  all  the 
more  striking  by  a  very  white  and  even  row  of  teeth. 
Women  said  she  painted,  which  was  malicious,  and 
men  were  a  little  afraid  of  her.  She  read  a  good  deal, 
and  was  fond  of  talking  about  literature.  Stupid  men 
jeered,  and  said  it  was  all  humbug,  that  she  only  read 
up  reviews.  Some  of  the  clever  men  thought  her 
'  metallic'  She  was  an  entertaining  companion,  with 
an  acute  sense  of  the  ludicrous  and  a  rather  quick 
tongue,  but  by  no  means  devoid  of  softer  qualities. 
Between  her  and  Mrs.  Dangerfield  there  was  an  armed 
truce.  They  had  met  in  open  fight  more  than  once, 
and  were  not  close  friends ;  but  as  opponents  they 
respected  one  another.  Mrs.  Stewart  had  far  more 
skill  of  fence ;  but,  as  a  rule,  Mrs.  Dangerfield  fairly 
rode  her  down.  Now  Mrs.  Stewart  avoided  provoking 
Mrs.  Dangerfield  to  conflict,  and  Mrs.  Dangerfield 
never  attacked  any  one  who  let  her  alone;  so  that 
they  generally  met  and  parted  peacefully. 

With  the  ladies  as  well  as  with  his  brother  officers 
and  his  men  Guy  Langley  was  popular.  It  was  no 
wonder  altogether  that  he  loved  his  regiment,  and  felt 
satisfied  with  life.  '  Ajprds  tout'  he  used  to  say,  with 
Voltaire,  '  apHs  tout,  c'est  un  monde  passable.' 


CHAPTEE    VI 

OUTWARD  BOUND 

The  Ganges  was  a  fine  vessel,  though  not  a  fast  one; 
and  if  the  life  on  board  was  somewhat  monotonous,  it 
was  not  altogether  disagreeable  or  uninteresting. 

In  1876  England  had  not  established  herself 
in  Egypt  as  she  has  since  done;  but  even  then  an 
Englishman  had  good  cause  to  be  proud  of  our  great 
highway  to  the  East,  guarded  by  its  chain  of  fortresses. 
It  warmed  one's  heart  to  come  upon  them,  one  after 
another:  Gibraltar,  Malta,  Aden,  with  their  towering 
batteries  and  crowded  ships,  and  to  see  everywhere  the 
familiar  red  coats,  and  flying  out  above  them  the  brave 
old  Union  Jack. 

A  man  does  not  know  what  England  is  until  he 
leaves  England.  Then  by  degrees,  if  he  has  in  him 
any  power  of  thought  and  feeling,  his  eyes  are  opened, 
and  it  comes  home  to  him  as  it  never  did  before  that 
he  has  a  right  to  hold  his  head  very  high.  The  howls 
of  party  fight  grow  fainter  and  fainter,  until  they  no 
longer  vex  the  ear ;  the  little  angry  politicians  are 
seen  no  more ;  and  in  their  place,  from  the  mist  and 


CHAP.  VI  OUTWARD  BOUND  57 

the  foam  of  the  northern  seas,  there  rises  a  majestic 
form  with  calm  and  fearless  eyes  :  England,  the  mother 
of  empires. 

To  Guy  Langley  the  voyage  was  a  revelation.  He 
had  started  for  India  thinking  very  little  of  these 
things ;  but  his  was  a  nature  which  could  not  remain 
insensible  to  the  meaning  of  all  he  saw;  and  long 
before  he  reached  Indian  waters  it  dawned  upon  him 
that  he  had  hitherto  been  strangely  ignorant  and 
indifferent.  A  few  chance  words  first  aroused  him 
from  his  carelessness. 

Among  the  officers  on  board  was  a  Major  Eussell 
of  the  Engineers,  a  man  of  striking  presence,  very  tall 
and  powerfully  built,  with  dark  grave  eyes,  and  a 
reserved  but  courteous  manner.  He  had  distinguished 
himself  both  on  service  and  at  the  Staff  College,  and, 
though  only  a  few  years  older  than  Guy,  had  already 
gained  a  high  reputation  as  a  scientific  soldier. 

One  fine  calm  morning,  about  a  week  after  their 
start,  the  Ganges  was  gliding  over  a  quiet  sea,  moved 
only  by  the  rolling  lines  of  the  ground-swell.  Guy  was 
sitting  on  deck,  half  asleep  in  an  easy-chair,  with  a 
novel  in  his  lap,  when  Eussell's  hand  was  laid  on  his 
shoulder.     '  Do  you  know  where  we  are,  Langley  ? ' 

Guy  looked  up,  rather  surprised  at  the  question. 
'  No,  I  don't,  Major.     Are  we  anywhere  in  particular  ? ' 

Eussell  was  standing  by  the  ship's  side,  looking 
away  to  the  northward.  '  There  is  Trafalgar,'  he  said, 
as  he   pointed  towards  the  blue  line  of  the  Spanish 


58  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

coast.  For  a  few  seconds  he  was  silent,  then  he  went 
on :  '  We  must  be  close  to  wdiere  the  fight  was,  a  little 
south  of  it,  and  everything  must  have  looked  just  as 
it  does  now.  Do  you  remember  ?  It  was  a  calm  day, 
about  this  time  of  year,  or  a  little  later,  with  a  long 
smooth  swell,  and  hardly  a  breath  of  wind.  The 
French  and  Spaniards  were  lying  out  there  to  the 
right,  more  than  thirty  men-of-war,  and  we  came 
slowly  down  upon  them  from  the  westward,  with  just 
breeze  enough  behind  us  to  fill  our  topsails,  and  drove 
right  through  their  line.  What  a  fight  it  must  have 
been  !  Sixty  men-of-war  pouring  their  broadsides  into 
each  other,  and  often  so  close  that  their  yard-arms 
crossed.  Isn't  it  hard  to  realise  that  all  that  was 
going  on  here,  and  only  seventy  years  ago  ?  The 
world  seems  to  have  changed  so  completely.  Some  of 
the  sunken  ships  must  be  lying  there  still,  perhaps 
under  our  very  feet.  What  would  one  give  to  have 
seen  such  a  day  ? ' 

Guy  Langley  stood  gazing  at  the  smooth  blue  sea, 
carried  away  by  the  strong  feeling  in  Eussell's  voice 
and  manner,  and  trying  to  picture  the  scene  to  him- 
self. After  a  time  he  broke  out.  '  We  may  live  to 
see  it  yet.  We  are  bound  to  fight  the  French  again 
some  day,  and  we  shall  thrash  them  as  we  always  have 
done.     They  never  could  stand  up  to  us.' 

Eussell  turned,  and  the  pensive  retrospective  look 
died  out  of  his  face.  '  That  is  a  fine  old  theory,  but 
I   don't  know  that  it  is  altogether  a  sound  one,  or  a 


VI  OUTWARD  BOUND  59 

safe  one.  They  stood  up  to  us  well,  even  at  Trafalgar, 
poor  fellows.  It  was  not  simply  superior  courage  that 
beat  them.' 

Guy  looked  incredulous.     '  What  was  it,  then  ? ' 

'  Training  chiefly,  I  think.  We  had  been  blockad- 
ing their  ports  for  years,  and  our  ships'  crews  were 
thoroughly  seasoned,  while  theirs  were  made  up  largely 
of  landsmen.  Of  course  we  could  manoeuvre  much 
more  smartly  than  they  could.  And  our  gunners 
served  their  guns  faster,  and  shot  straighter,  so  that 
they  suffered  much  more  than  we  did.' 

'  I  don't  like  to  think  our  victories  were  all  owing 
to  that  sort  of  thing,'  Guy  said. 

'I  don't  say  they  were.  I  believe  our  men  have 
more  fighting  devil  in  them,  somehow.  But  it  is  as 
well  to  look  at  these  things  fairly,  and  not  to  run  the 
chance  of  deceiving  ourselves  as  the  Trench  did  a  few 
years  ago.  Besides,  we  have  every  reason  to  be  proud 
of  being  better  seamen  and  better  gunners.' 

Guy  did  not  look  satisfied.  Eussell  laughed. 
'  You  don't  agree,'  he  said ;  '  you  prefer  the  old  way  of 
putting  it — 

"  Two  skinny  Frenchmen,  one  Portuguee. 
One  jolly  Enghshman  will  lick  'em  all  three." 

Well,  of  course  pluck  is  the  best  foundation  in  the 
world,  and  I  believe  we  have  got  it  as  no  one  else  has. 
All  I  mean  is,  that  it  does  not  do  to  trust  to  pluck 
alone.  You  may  win  that  way  now  and  then,  at  a 
heavy  cost,  but  three  times  out  of  four  the  men  who 


6o  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

have  been  trained  to  play  the  game  will  beat  you,  as 
they  would  beat  you  at  cricket  or  football.' 

'  Of  course  you  are  right,  Major/  Guy  answered  ; 
'but  one  likes  to  think  our  fellows  are  better  in 
themselves.' 

'  I  don't  say  they  are  not.  I  believe  they  are.  All 
I  mean  is  that  we  must  not  rely  on  that  and  neglect 
the  rest.  What  happened  to  the  Erench  in  1870  is 
a  terrible  warning.  I  can't  help  feeling  uncomfortable 
when  I  think  how  near  we  have  been  sometimes  to 
ruinous  disasters.  We  have  had  luck  with  us  as  well 
as  pluck,  and  luck  may  change.' 

Then  he  was  silent  again.  He  was  thinking  of  the 
miserable  rabble  of  French  troops  he  had  seen  on  the 
Swiss  border  when  Bourbaki  retreated  before  the 
Germans.  'No,  we  could  never  come  down  to  that,' 
he  said  to  himself. 

Guy  had  gone  back  to  Trafalgar.  He  was  trying 
to  remember  what  he  had  read  about  the  fight,  and  to 
imagine  the  great  battle-ships  lifting  slowly  forward 
with  the  swell,  their  bows  going  up  like  the  bows  of 
the  Ganges,  as  the  long  smooth  waves  rolled  away  in 
front  of  them  towards  the  line  of  the  enemy's  broad- 
sides. '  Didn't  Nelson  go  in  for  cutting  their  line  ? ' 
he  asked.  'I  do  not  quite  see  how  that  acted.  It 
always  seems  odd  to  me  that  we  beat  the  French  on 
shore  by  fighting  in  line  against  their  column,  and 
beat  them  at  sea  by  fighting  in  column  against  their 
line.' 


VI  OUTWARD  BOUND  6i 

The  idea  had  never  before  clearly  presented  itself 
to  Guy's  mind,  but  conversation  brings  one's  thoughts 
to  a  point,  particularly  if  one  is  inclined  to  be  an  in- 
dolent thinker. 

'That  has  struck  me  too/  Eussell  answered.  'I 
believe  the  reason  was  simply  want  of  training.  If 
the  French  ships  and  guns  had  been  properly  handled, 
they  would  have  destroyed  the  heads  of  our  columns 
at  sea  just  as  our  well-trained  infantry  destroyed  the 
heads  of  their  columns  on  shore ;  but  their  fire  was 
comparatively  harmless,  so  we  were  able  to  get  to  close 
quarters  without  suffering  much,  and  then  to  rake 
them  horribly  in  going  through,  and  to  split  up  their 
line  into  separate  fragments.  That  is  what  the  French 
say  themselves.  I  expect  Nelson  only  attacked  !n 
that  formation  because  he  knew  he  could  take  liberties. 
All  the  more  credit  of  course  to  his  generalship.  But 
if  the  French,  instead  of  being  merely  brave  men,  had 
been  trained  to  fight  their  ships  properly,  he  could  not 
have  done  it.  We  could  not  have  attacked  an  American 
fleet  like  that.' 

*  An  American  fleet !  Do  you  believe  in  the 
Yankees  ? ' 

'  Don't  you  ? ' 

'  I  don't  know  much  about  them,  but  I  can't  say  I 
admire  them.  Those  I  have  met  seemed  to  me  in- 
fernally vulgar  and  bumptious.' 

'  Some  of  them  are  vulgar  of  course.  It's  a  country 
where  one  can  rise  rapidly.     But  I  am  always  sorry  to 


62  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

hear  Englishmen  abuse  Americans.  They  are  our  own 
flesh  and  blood,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  we  ought  to 
be  very  proud  of  them ;  we  soldiers  particularly.' 

'  Why  ?  Of  course  they  are  a  big  nation,  because 
they  have  lots  of  room  to  grow  in,  but  what  have  they 
ever  done  except  grow,  and  swagger  ? ' 

Tight.  They  have  shown  the  world  what  war 
means  with  men  of  Enolish  race  on  both  sides.' 

'  You  mean  in  their  civil  war  ?  I  never  read  much 
about  it :  I  was  a  small  boy  when  it  happened ;  but 
I  always  thought  it  was  a  case  of  two  armed  mobs.' 

'No  doubt  they  were  not  highly  trained  troops 
when  they  began  ;  but  look  at  the  pluck  and  endurance 
they  showed.  I  don't  believe  any  other  troops  in  the 
world  except  our  own  would  have  stood  up  against 
such  awful  losses.  Look  at  Gettysburg,  for  instance, 
where  there  were  fifty  thousand  men  killed  and 
wounded,  a  full  quarter  of  the  total  numbers  engaged, 
or  the  last  campaign  against  Eichmond,  when  Grant 
lost  one  hundred  thousand  men.  I  believe  I  am 
right  in  saying  that  altogether  the  North  put  a  million 
and  a  half  of  men  into  the  field;  and  that  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  million,  one  man  in  six,  were 
killed  or  died  in  hospital.  The  South  probably  lost 
quite  as  many  out  of  a  smaller  total.' 

'  I  never  realised  that  there  was  anything  like  that. 

'But  there  was.  And  nine  out  of  ten  on  both 
sides  were  men  of  our  own  blood.  Isn't  that  some- 
thing to  be  proud  of  ? ' 


vi  OUTWARD  BOUND  63 

'  They  hate  us  now.  They  would  not  thank  you 
for  calling  them  English.' 

'  I  know  that.  Of  course  they  think  they  have 
improved  on  the  old  stock  ;  and  I  am  afraid  they  don't 
love  us.  They  were  very  sore  with  us  during  the 
war.  It  was  not  fair,  I  think,  but  it  was  natural 
enough.  We  were  ignorant  and  careless ;  and  the 
North  thought  we  encouraged  rebellion,  and  the  South 
thought  we  did  not  sympathise  with  them  in  their 
fight  for  freedom.  I  hope  the  soreness  will  disappear 
in  time;  and  whether  it  does  or  not,  that  makes  no 
difference.  Even  if  they  hate  us,  I  can't  help  being 
proud  of  them.  They  belong  to  our  race,  and  they  are 
a  grand  nation.' 

'  I  suppose  they  are  in  some  ways  ;  I  never  thought 
of  it  in  that  light.  But  they  always  behave  badly  to 
us.  They  tried  to  stab  us  in  the  back  when  we  were 
fighting  Napoleon ;  and  they  always  back  up  the  Irish 
against  us.' 

'  Our  own  parties  use  the  Irish  against  each  other, 
and  always  did.  You  can't  expect  the  Americans  to 
care  more  for  us  than  we  do  for  ourselves.  Besides, 
they  know  they  will  have  to  deal  with  the  Irish 
question  themselves  some  day.  It  is  only  natural 
they  should  shelve  it  at  our  expense  as  long  as  they 
can.' 

'It  may  be  natural,  Major;  it  isn't  nice,  in  the 
way  they  do  it.' 

'  Well,  I  don't   mean  to  say  the  Yankees  always 


64  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

behave  well  to  us.  I  don't  think  they  do.  But  we 
must  get  to  look  beyond  our  own  island.  It  can't  hold 
us  all;  and  anyhow  those  of  us  who  have  the  good 
luck  to  remain  in  it  ought  not  to  regard  as  aliens  those 
who  live  elsewhere,  and  to  sneer  at  them  for  little 
differences  of  dialect,  and  manner,  and  habits.  We 
ought  to  think  of  the  English  race  as  our  own  people 
wherever  they  may  be,  from  Canada  to  the  Cape.  It 
will  make  us  all  the  better  Englishmen.' 

As  he  ceased  speaking  Mrs.  Stewart  passed,  looking 
for  a  chair,  and  Eussell  went  off  to  help  her.  He  did 
not  return,  but  he  had  set  Guy  thinking,  and  during 
the  course  of  the  long  voyage  it  happened  more  than 
once  that  the  two  found  themselves  together,  leaning 
over  the  ship's  side,  and  talking  of  various  events 
which  had  gone  towards  the  making  of  our  Empire. 
Eussell  was  a  well  read,  thoughtful  man,  very  proud 
of  his  country  and  jealous  of  her  honour.  His  influence 
upon  Guy  was  in  all  respects  a  good  one.  It  did 
something  to  widen  his  sympathies,  and  remove  from 
his  mind  the  narrow  prejudices  of  the  stay-at-home 
Englishman.  He  began  to  understand  that  the  men 
whose  names  were  familiar  to  him  were  many  of  them 
mere  political  gladiators,  who  served  to  keep  the  mob 
amused  while  the  real  work  of  the  race  was  being 
done.  It  came  home  to  him  that  generation  after 
generation,  while  statesmen  had  been  wrangling  and 
reviling  one  another,  and  carrying  on  their  eternal 
struggle  for  place  and  powder,  millions  of  Englishmen 


VI  OUTWARD  BOUND  65 

all  over  the  world,  regardless  of  party  squabbles  and 
party  cries,  had  been  steadily  bearing  forward  the 
English  flag.  So  it  has  been,  and  so  it  is  still.  They 
colonise  America  and  Australia  and  New  Zealand,  and 
conquer  India,  and  explore  Africa,  so  that  the  English 
tongue  is  heard  and  the  English  flag  is  seen  in  every 
quarter  of  the  globe.  They  are  a  heterogeneous  force ; 
peers  and  ploughmen,  soldiers  and  sailors,  merchants 
and  magistrates,  squatters  and  parsons,  women  and 
children ;  and  they  fight  loosely,  without  much  com- 
bination, and  suffer  heavy  losses.  Their  graves  are 
everywhere  ;  the  earth  and  the  sea  are  full  of  their  dead. 
Many  of  their  countrymen  who  stay  comfortably  at 
home  are  too  ready  to  believe  evil  of  them,  to  lecture 
and  condemn  them  on  the  smallest  evidence,  or  on  none 
at  all,  to  impede  them  in  their  work,  to  support  against 
them  any  man  of  another  colour,  even  at  times  to  look 
on  with  indifference  while  they  are  fighting  for  their 
lives ;  but  the  English  flag  goes  forward  nevertheless, 
and  with  it,  into  all  the  dark  places  of  the  earth,  go 
freedom  and  order  and  justice. 

Guy  Langley  began  to  understand  it  all  before  the 
Ganges  had  finished  half  her  voyage,  and  his  Colonel 
remarked  that  he  was  taking  an  interest  in  these 
things.  '  I  like  that  boy,'  Aylmer  said  to  his  wife. 
'He  has  more  in  him  than  most  fellows  of  his  age. 
He  thinks,  and  he  is  a  gentleman.' 

Mrs.  Aylmer  put  her  work  down  on  her  lap,  and 
sat  looking   out   over   the   sea.      It  used  to  vex  her 

VOL.  I  F 


66  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

sometimes  to  see  how  quickly  Guy's  moods  seemed  to 
change  :  how,  for  example,  he  would  turn  in  a  moment 
from  a  quiet  conversation  with  her  or  her  husband,  in 
which  he  had  been  talking  '  so  nicely,'  to  a  rather 
noisy  chaffing  match  with  Mrs.  Dangerfield.  She 
wondered  whether  one  could  quite  depend  upon  him. 

Some  doubt  of  the  kind  she  now  expressed.  Aylmer 
rebuked  her  in  his  gentle  way.  '  I  think  that  is  rather 
hard,  wife.  He  is  very  young,  and  has  high  spirits. 
You  would  not  wish  him  to  be  always  serious.' 

'No,  dear.  I  suppose  I  am  uncharitable.  He  is  a 
nice  boy.' 

Nevertheless  the  doubt  recurred  and  remained,  and 
Guy  with  his  quick  perception  detected  it,  and  felt 
hurt  at  it.  He  knew  that  he  had  many  moods,  but 
he  would  never  admit  to  himself  that  this  implied  any 
lightness  of  feeling.  He  could  honestly  sympathise  up 
to  a  certain  point  with  totally  different  characters  and 
lines  of  thought.  That  was  all.  Perhaps  he  was 
right.  A  quick  sense  of  humour,  and  a  tolerant 
spirit,  which  are  commonly  found  together,  may  at 
times  cause  an  honest  man  to  be  somewhat  hardly 
judged  by  those  whose  minds  are  made  of  less  flexible 
stuff. 

One  morning  towards  the  end  of  October  at  day- 
light the  Ganges  cast  anchor  in  Bombay  harbour.  The 
screw  had  hardly  ceased  to  revolve  when  all  on  board 
were  stirring ;  and  soon  the  decks  were  covered  with 
men. 


VI  OUTWARD  BOUND  67 

Weary  of  their  long  confinement,  all  alike  hailed 
with  pleasure  the  sight  of  the  Indian  coast,  and  longed 
for  the  hour  of  landing.  In  the  meantime,  however, 
there  was  plenty  to  see.  The  wide  bay  full  of  shipping 
and  small  native  craft ;  the  fine  buildings  of  the  town  ; 
the  low  shore  fringed  with  palms  ;  the  blue  hills  in  the 
distance ;  the  cloudless  sky,  in  which  the  night  mists 
were  rapidly  melting  away  under  the  influence  of  the 
rising  sun  and  cool  morning  breeze ;  all  combined  to 
make  up  a  very  pleasant  picture. 

Guy  Langley  was  one  of  the  first  on  deck,  and  he 
stood  for  a  time  alone,  leaning  over  the  ship's  side. 
To  a  man  of  his  temperament  there  was  something  of 
poetry  in  the  first  sight  of  India,  the  land  of  adventure 
and  romance  of  which  he  had  read  so  much.  'A 
momentary  feeling  of  annoyance  came  over  him  as  the 
silence  was  broken  by  Dale's  cheery  voice. 

'  By  Jingo !  that's  a  stunning  view,'  the  boy  said  as 
he  walked  up,  looking  as  usual  aggressively  fresh  and 
clean ;  '  we  shall  be  off  this  beastly  old  tub  before  long 
now.' 

Guy's  dreams  broke  up,  and  he  turned  slowly  round 
and  looked  at  his  friend.  A  smile  came  over  his  face, 
but  he  spoke  rather  reproachfully,  and  both  smile  and 
voice  had  in  them  an  unintentional  touch  of  contempt. 
'  Eum  beggar  you  are,  Chimp.  That's  "  India's  coral 
strand."     I  don't  believe  you  ever  think.' 

Chimp  was  nettled  and  answered  hotly.  *  Yes,  I 
do.     I  think  just  as  much  as  any  one  else ;  only  I  am 


68  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

not  always  talking  rot  about  things.'  Then  he  re- 
covered his  temper  and  laughed.  '  Anyhow,  we'll  have 
a  jolly  good  time  on  India's  coral  strand  ;  won't  we,  old 
chap  ? ' 

Guy  assented,  and  they  were  soon  in  conversation 
about  the  doings  of  the  coming  day. 

What  a  hot  day  it  was !  Bombay  is  always  hot, 
even  in  November — hot  with  a  soft,  damp,  sticky  heat 
which  is  very  infuriating.  Sit  near  a  window  un- 
dressed in  the  sea  breeze,  and  it  is  bearable ;  but  put 
on  a  shirt  and  collar,  or  pack  a  box,  and  life  becomes  a 
burden.  To  an  Englishman  fresh  from  Europe,  the 
heat  is  not  so  trying  as  it  is  to  the  old  Indian.  For 
the  former  there  is  at  all  events  something  of  novelty 
in  the  sensation.  But  even  to  new  arrivals  it  is  not 
pleasant.  Go  into  a  greenhouse  heated  up  to  90°,  you 
who  have  never  seen  the  East,  and  imagine  how  you 
would  like  to  live  and  work  in  it.  That  is  Bombay  in 
the  '  cold  weather ' ;  happily  it  is  not  much  worse  in 
the  hot. 

The  baggage  was  landed  during  the  day,  and  the 
men  in  the  afternoon.  Then  came  the  long  railway 
journey,  first  through  the  magnificent  gorges  of  the 
mountain  range  which  fringes  the  coast,  and  afterwards 
through  the  tamer  but  still  novel  and  beautiful  scenery 
of  the  great  central  plateau  of  India.  The  Thirtieth, 
however,  did  not  see  much  of  it,  for  they  travelled  at 
night  only,  spending  the  day  at  the  various  rest-camps. 
They  were  heartily  glad,  one  and  all  of  them,  when 


VI  OUTWARD  BOUND  69 

one  morning  at  the  end  of  October,  in  a  cool  pleasant 
climate  very  different  from  the  climate  of  the  coast,  the 
train  drew  up  by  the  side  of  the  long  stone-flagged 
platform  at  Syntia,  and  they  knew  they  were  at  last 
at  their  journey's  end. 


CHAPTEE  VII 

SYNTIA 

Cavalky  cannot  be  quartered  on  precipitous  mountain- 
sides, and  Syntia,  like  all  cavalry  stations,  was  there- 
fore in  the  '  Plains ' ;  but  the  plains  of  India  afford  a 
great  variety  of  scenery  and  climate,  from  the  arid 
deserts  of  stone  and  sand  which  lie  along  the  north- 
west frontier  to  the  moist,  densely  wooded  flats  of 
Bengal  and  the  fine  plateaux  of  Malwa  and  the  Deccan. 
Syntia  was  situated  in  the  midst  of  a  rolling  well- 
timbered  district  at  a  considerable  height  above  the 
sea. 

During  the  summer  months  the  place  was  hot 
enough.  From  March  to  June  the  dry  west  wind 
blew  steadily  throughout  the  day.  At  this  season  the 
country  looked  very  parched.  The  sky  became  a  dull 
yellow ;  the  trees  were  covered  with  dust ;  and  the 
earth  was  brown  and  cracked,  and  almost  bare  of  vege- 
tation. Occasionally  a  welcome  thunderstorm  and 
shower,  brought  up  by  a  sudden  nor'-wester,  came  to 
cool  the  air  for  a  few  hours  and  wash  the  dust  from 
the  trees ;  but  the  next  day  it  was  as  hot  as  before. 


CHAP.  VII  SYNTIA  71 

The  regimental  grass-cutters  were  sometimes  hard  pushed 
to  find  fodder  for  their  horses.     Yet  somehow,  morning 
after  morning,  as  the  sun  grew  hot,  they  might  be  seen 
returning  to  cantonments,   their   little    gaunt    ponies 
staggering  under  great  loads  of  the  creeping  doob  grass, 
laboriously  collected   with  the   aid   of    small    curved 
sickles.     It  looked  terribly  uninviting,  half  roots  and 
dust,  but  when  it  was  carefully  shaken  and  cleaned  the 
horses  liked  it  and  throve  on  it.     Then  followed  the 
monsoon.     Towards  the  end  of  June  the  sky  became 
overcast,  and  the  clouds  gathered  and  darkened  and 
broke ;  and  the  parched  earth  was  covered  with  pools 
of  water ;  and   on   every  side   green  grass  and  crops 
sprang  up  with  magical  rapidity  ;  and  the  poor  half- 
starved  cattle,  with  their  shiny  ribs  and  pointed  hip- 
bones, grew  merry  and  strong.     The  rain  lasted  until 
September.      Then  the   clouds  began   to   lighten  and 
disperse,  and  there  followed  a  month  of  muggy  rather 
disagreeable  weather,  while  the  sodden  earth  steamed 
and  dried  in  the  autumn  sun.      And  then  the  wind  set 
in    from   the   northward,  the   vapours   and   heat   fled 
away  before  it,  and  the  sky  became  an  exquisite  cloud- 
less blue.     Then  the  air  was  cool  and  delicious,  so  that 
it  was  a  pleasure  to  live ;  and  the  flowers  were  bright, 
and  the  trees  looked  fresh  and  beautiful  as  the  breeze 
rustled  through  their  leaves,  and  flocks  of  little  green 
parrots  wheeled  about  them  at  lightning  speed,  shim- 
mering like  winged  jewels.     Then  in  the  morning  the 
horses  snuffed  up  the  dry  life-giving  air,  and  began  to 


72  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

reach  at  their  bits  again,  and  to  beg  for  a  gallop ;  and 
as  the  turf  flew  away  under  the  strokes  of  your  big 
Australian,  and  the  wind  whistled  past  your  ears,  you 
felt  that  the  world  was  good.  Even  in  the  hot  weather 
it  was  always  possible  for  the  ladies  and  children  and 
sick  men  to  escape  in  a  day  or  two  from  the  sun  and 
the  dust  to  the  pines  and  breezes  of  the  'Hills.'  Syntia 
was  within  reach  of  the  Himalayas. 

For  a  man  in  sound  health,  who  did  not  mind  a 
little  heat  and  could  exist  at  a  distance  from  Pall  Mall, 
the  place  had  its  attractions.  It  was  in  the  centre  of 
one  of  the  best  sporting  districts  in  India.  During 
the  cold  season  there  were  plenty  of  snipe  and  duck 
to  be  got  among  the  reed-fringed  meres  and  flooded 
rice-fields  which  lay  in  all  directions  glistening  and 
slowly  shrinking  under  the  clear  blue  sky.  Later,  as 
the  weather  grew  warm,  the  game  little  quail  arrived 
in  countless  numbers,  and  an  early  riser  could  have 
many  a  good  morning's  shooting  in  the  grain-fields  and 
the  low  jlww  jungle  which  covered  the  broad  sandy 
bed  of  the  neighbouring  river.  Twenty  brace  before 
breakfast  for  a  single  gun  was  no  extraordinary  feat. 
Before  this,  away  to  the  north  of  the  central  station,  the 
night  sky  had  begun  to  glow  with  fires,  and  soon  the  long 
jungle  grass  was  thinned,  so  that  it  was  possible  to  work 
through  it,  and  to  get  a  shot  at  the  game  with  which 
it  swarmed :  '  hog  deer,'  and  leopards,  and  tiger,  and 
buffalo.  Farther  north  again  were  forests  where  one 
could  stalk  the  graceful  spotted  deer ;  and  to  the  west 


VII  SYNTIA  73 

hills  where  the  big  sambur  stags  were  to  be  found,  and 
plains  which  the  antelope  loved  ;  and  almost  anywhere 
in  the  district,  if  there  was  nothing  else,  one  could  shoot 
alligators.  The  great  beasts  lay  floating  on  the  water, 
with  the  top  of  their  heads  and  the  end  of  their  snouts 
just  out  of  it,  or  basking  on  the  river-banks,  printing  a 
delicate  pattern  of  scales  on  the  wet  sand.  To  riding 
men  the  country  to  the  south  was  a  paradise,  for  in 
parts  the  pig  abounded,  and  the  ground  was  fairly 
open,  and  with  the  help  of  a  steady  Arab  or  Waler, 
and  a  hog-spear,  you  could  enjoy  such  sport  as  England 
knows  not.  Altogether,  for  a  sportsman  there  were 
few  better  stations  in  the  British  empire,  and  so  Guy 
Langley  and  Dale  speedily  concluded.  The  outgoing 
regiment  had  entertained  them  at  dinner  the  first  even- 
ing after  they  arrived  ;  and  Dale,  always  keen  for  sport, 
had  found  out  all  about  it  from  some  kindred  spirits. 

The  society  of  Syntia  was  not  large.  The  'Station' 
consisted  of  two  clearly  defined  parts.  At  one  end 
were  the  cantonments,  in  which  were  quartered  the 
Thirtieth  Lancers ;  while  at  the  other  end,  three  miles 
distant,  were  the  '  Civil  Lines,'  for  besides  being  a 
military  station  Syntia  was  also  the  headquarters  of  a 
civil  'Division,'  or  small  province. 

It  is  not  usual  for  a  regiment  of  British  cavalry  to 
be  quartered  in  an  Indian  station  without  other  troops ; 
but  for  special  reasons  it  does  occasionally  happen. 
At  Syntia  there  were  some  fine  old  barracks  and  other 
buildings  which  it  seemed  a  pity  to  leave  unoccupied. 


74  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

and  an  exceptionally  good  stretch  of  grass  land.  The 
last  is,  or  was,  an  absolute  necessity  for  a  cavalry  regi- 
ment in  India,  where  horses  were  not  fed  on  hay,  but 
on  fresh-cut  grass.  Twenty  miles  off,  at  Baner,  was  a 
large  cantonment  containing  a  force  of  all  arms. 
Practically,  the  Thirtieth  Lancers  at  Syntia  belonged 
to  this  force,  which  they  could  join  at  a  few  hours' 
notice ;  and  communication  between  the  two  places 
was  frequent,  both  on  business  and  pleasure.  For 
balls,  and  races,  and  the  like,  the  residents  of  one 
place  always  expected  to  be  joined  by  the  residents  of 
the  other.  Nevertheless,  an  interval  of  even  twenty 
miles  is  an  appreciable  obstacle ;  and  for  the  pleasures 
of  their  daily  life  the  officers  of  the  regiment  quar- 
tered at  Syntia  were  mainly  dependent  upon  themselves 
and  the  Civil  Station.  The  only  military  residents  not 
belonging  to  the  Thirtieth  were  two  young  officers  of  a 
native  infantry  detachment,  which  supplied  a  guard  for 
the  Civil  Treasury  and  other  public  buildings.  This 
detachment  was  relieved  every  month. 

The  Civil  Division  of  Syntia  was  a  province  about 
the  size  of  Ireland,  with  a  population  of  eight  millions, 
and  was  divided  for  executive  purposes  into  four  '  dis- 
tricts,' corresponding  to  the  four  '  kingdoms '  of  Ulster, 
Munster,  Leinster,  and  Connaught.  In  charge  of  the 
whole  was  an  English  officer  called  a  '  Commissioner,' 
who  was  responsible  for  the  maintenance  of  order,  the 
collection  of  the  Government  revenue,  and  generally  for 
the  administration  of  the  province.     To  help  him  in  this 


VII  SYNTIA  75 

work,  lie  had  in  charge  of  each  district  an  English 
'  Deputy  Commissioner/  who  commanded  the  services 
of  an  English  police  officer,  and  two  or  three  English 
assistants.  There  was  an  English  judge  at  the  head- 
quarters of  the  division,  who,  with  the  help  of  the 
Deputy  Commissioners  and  their  subordinates,  prac- 
tically disposed  of  all  judicial  business,  civil  and 
criminal.  Such  is  the  simple  framework  of  our  empire 
in  India.  There  are,  of  course,  various  departments — 
Public  Works,  Telegraph,  Post-Office,  and  so  on ;  but 
British  India  is,  in  fact,  governed  by  a  small  number  of 
English  district  officers  wielding  very  extensive  powers, 
and  charged  with  every  kind  of  work.  Their  diffi- 
culties are  increased  now  by  over-centralisation  and 
other  evil  influences;  but,  cheered  by  the  occasional 
smile  of  the  British  bayonet,  they  still  manage  to  kegp 
the  country  in  order. 

Besides  being  the  headquarters  of  the  Division, 
Syntia  was  also  the  headquarters  of  one  of  the  dis- 
tricts of  which  the  Division  was  composed.  The  Civil 
residents  therefore  comprised  the  district  staff  as  well 
as  the  divisional  staff.  Even  so,  they  were  not 
numerous. 

The  most  important  person  in  Syntia  was  the 
Commissioner  of  the  division,  Colonel  Treveryan. 

Since  the  Mutiny  he  had  risen  steadily.  He  had 
found  the  service  a  disappointment  in  some  ways ;  for, 
as  India  quieted  down,  and  our  methods  of  govern- 
ment grew  more  and  more  regular,  the  soldier  adminis- 


76  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

trators,  who  had  been  so  useful  and  necessary  in  time 
of  trouble,  came  to  be  regarded  as  somewhat  out  of 
place ;  and  they  were  in  many  cases  superseded  by 
younger  men  belonging  to  the  Civil  Service,  whose 
training  was  possibly  more  suitable  to  the  altered  con- 
dition of  affairs.  Looking  for  a  career  of  personal  rule 
enlivened  by  active  service,  Treveryan  had  found  him- 
self gradually  reduced  to  a  steady  grind  in  court  and 
office,  with  no  chance  of  military  work  or  distinction. 
He  chafed  against  the  peaceful  monotony  of  the  life,  so 
different  from  what  he  had  expected,  and  against  the 
centralising  tendency  of  the  authorities.  The  power 
and  influence  of  the  district  officers  began  to  be 
lowered  year  by  year;  more  and  more  regularity  of 
form  was  demanded  from  them ;  and,  in  Colonel  Tre- 
veryan's  opinion,  the  country  was  worse  ruled.  N'ever- 
theless,  he  did  his  work  conscientiously,  and  on  the 
whole  with  success.  Though  not  elaborately  trained 
in  civil  and  judicial  work,  he  had  common  sense,  and 
he  rarely  made  a  mistake  of  more  than  form ;  while  in 
all  practical  matters  his  knowledge  of  the  people  and 
their  ways,  and  his  popularity  among  them  and  ready 
acceptance  of  responsibility,  made  him  a  very  valuable 
officer.  He  was  sometimes  sneered  at  by  young  gentle- 
men who  had  come  out  to  India  fresh  from  their 
examinations,  and  full  of  conceit  in  themselves  and 
their  acquirements ;  but  he  was  worth  more  than  most 
of  them  would  ever  be. 

What  you  want  in  a  country  like  India  is  courage 


VII  ,  SYNTIA  77 

and  judgment  and  common  sense  rather  than  technical 
skill.  In  England  the  uncertainty  of  the  law  is  prover- 
bial ;  and  probably  the  main  result  of  the  elaboration  of 
our  Indian  judicial  machinery  has  been  to  make  justice 
more  doubtful  than  it  was.  But  even  supposing  that  jus- 
tice had  been  made  somewhat  less  doubtful,  this  is  little 
in  comparison  with  other  things.  By  bad  advice  given  to 
the  ruler  of  a  Native  State,  by  ignorance  of  Indian  ways 
and  feelings,  by  slurring  the  practical  management  of  a 
British  district,  a  man  may  do  infinitely  more  harm  than 
by  a  series  of  sentences  which  can  be  reversed  on  appeal. 
An  Indian  district  officer  is  one  of  a  few  hundred 
Englishmen  who  are  ruling  an  empire  of  two  hundred 
and  fifty  millions.  He  should  be  capable  of  hewing  out 
a  colossus  if  need  be ;  but  it  matters  comparatively 
little  whether  he  can  carve  cherry  stones.  Yet  you 
try  to  keep  him  carving  cherry  stones  all  his  life ;  sit- 
ting in  court  or  office,  and  submitting  multitudinous 
returns,  and  letting  the  real  work  go.  Then  he 
suddenly  finds  himself  facing  great  danger  and  respon- 
sibility, perhaps  surrounded  by  armed  revolt;  and 
you  expect  him  to  stand  out  a  heroic  figure,  like  our 
great  men  of  old  to  whose  hands  the  sword  was  as 
familiar  as  the  pen.  The  whole  thing  is  wrong.  India 
cannot  be  held  by  clerks  and  lawyers.  And  even 
supposing  that  English  specialism  were  desirable  in 
India  the  country  cannot  afford  it.  You  would  want 
ten  times  the  number  of  men,  and  you  cannot  pay  for 
them. 


78  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

Next  to  Colonel  Treveryan  in  the  official  scale  was 
Mr.  Oldham,  the  judge.  He  was  a  quiet,  retiring  man, 
of  gentlemanly  manners  and  good  abilities,  but  weighed 
down  by  the  burden  of  a  very  large  family.  He  lived 
alone,  his  wife  having  been  forced  to  leave  him  in 
order  to  look  after  the  children  in  England.  She,  poor 
little  woman,  lived  in  Bedford,  with  a  houseful  of  boys 
and  girls  whom  she  found  it  difficult  to  manage,  while 
her  husband  toiled  on  in  India  to  find  the  wherewithal 
for  food  and  clothing.  He  could  not  afford  to  take  his 
pension  and  retire,  or  to  go  on  leave,  and  his  life  was 
a  dreary  one,  like  the  lives  of  many  Indian  officials, 
with  too  much  work  and  very  few  pleasures.  Helen 
Treveryan  liked  the  gentle,  silent  man,  with  his  uncom- 
plaining ways,  and  she  did  her  best  to  make  things 
brighter  for  him,  but  without  much  success.  He  was 
not  a  sportsman,  and  he  had  no  prospect  of  further 
promotion  in  the  service.  He  could  not  hope  to  see 
his  wife  or  his  children  for  years,  if  ever.  It  was  a 
sad  life,  patiently  borne  for  the  sake  of  others. 

The  Deputy  Commissioner  of  the  Syntia  district, 
Montague  Hunter,  was  a  man  of  very  different  character. 
Tall  and  stoutly  built,  with  a  cheery  manner  and 
hearty  ways  and  imperturbable  good  temper,  he  was  a 
general  favourite.  He  had  a  constitutional  dislike  to 
mounting  a  horse,  and  was  rather  indolent  in  mind  and 
body ;  yet  he  was  a  useful  officer,  very  clear-headed 
and  decided  in  his  opinions.  The  natives  liked  and 
respected  him,  and  the  district  was  in  excellent  order. 


VII  SYNTIA  79 

Mrs.  Hunter  was  a  pretty  woman,  inclined  to  be  stout, 
but  bright  and  active.  She  danced  well,  and  enjoyed 
her  dinner,  and  was  given  to  snubbing  her  husband, 
w^hom  she  regarded  as  very  inferior  to  herself  in  ability. 
The  Hunters  had  no  children,  and  were  well  off. 
People  often  wondered  why  they  stayed  in  India ;  but 
the  fact  was,  that  he  liked  the  easy  life  and  was  too 
lazy  to  uproot  himself,  and  she  liked  it  too,  though  she 
had  the  snobbish  habit  of  perpetually  sneering  at  all 
things  Indian. 

Then  there  was  the  Civil  Surgeon,  who  also  had 
charge  of  the  jail.  Doctors  in  India  seem  to  be 
mostly  Irish,  and  George  Beamish  was  no  exception 
to  the  rule.  He  was  rather  rough  in  appearance 
and  manner,  but  not  a  bad  fellow,  or  a  worse  doctor 
than  others.  His  wife  was  Irish  too,  with  good  eyes 
and  a  bad  mouth,  and  a  dreadful  brogue.  She  was 
the  mother  of  a  considerable  family,  but  most  of 
the  children  were  in  England.  There  was  only  one 
with  them,  a  troublesome  young  ruffian  of  seven, 
whom  she  could  not  make  up  her  mind  to  part  with. 
Mrs.  Beamish  was  a  good-hearted  woman,  but  a  bad 
manager,  and  not  a  lady  by  birth  or  education. 

Major  MacLean,  the  Superintendent  of  Police,  was, 
like  Colonel  Treveryan,  a  military  officer,  who  had 
taken  to  civil  work  after  the  Mutiny.  Bodies  of 
military  police  were  then  being  organised,  and 
MacLean,  a  Scotchman  with  a  taste  for  fighting, 
thought    he    saw   his    chance,   and   left   his  regiment 


8o  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

for  the  command  of  a  police  corps.  Very  soon,  as 
the  country  grew  quiet,  the  military  character  of 
the  corps  disappeared,  and  MacLean  found  himself, 
to  his  great  disappointment,  condemned  to  a  career 
for  which  he  had  no  inclination  whatever.  It  was 
too  late  then  to  return  to  the  army,  as  the  military 
authorities  would  not  take  back  officers  who  had 
elected  for  police  work.  Nevertheless,  though  dis- 
appointed, MacLean  did  his  duty  efficiently.  He 
was  a  good  shot  and  sportsman,  and  in  his  way  a 
handsome  man,  with  a  dark,  resolute  face  and  grizzled 
hair.  His  greatest  pleasure  seemed  to  be  whist,  which 
he  played  unusually  well. 

The  clergyman  of  the  parish,  or  '  Chaplain  of 
Syntia,'  was  one  of  the  cheeriest  men  in  the  station, 
always  ready  to  join  in  any  fun  that  was  going, 
and  to  do  his  best  for  the  happiness  of  others.  With 
the  help  of  Helen  Treveryan  and  Hunter,  who  had 
a  good  voice,  and  some  taste  for  music,  the  Padre 
had  succeeded  in  raising  a  very  respectable  little 
choir ;  and  his  services  were  bright  and  well  managed. 
His  religious  views  were  so  broad  and  tolerant  that 
they  shocked  some  of  his  congregation,  but  no  one 
could  doubt  his  earnestness  and  sincerity. 

The  European  society  of  Syntia  included  also  two 
junior  officers  of  the  Civil  Service,  who  were  known 
respectively  as  the  Joint  Magistrate  and  Assistant 
Magistrate. 

The   former,   James   Anderson,   was   a   Scotchman 


VII  SYNTIA  8i 

of  a  not  very  pleasant  type.  He  had  his  good  points, 
among  them  a  considerable  power  of  work  and  some 
courage ;  but  he  was  not  a  gentleman  in  his  manners 
or  appearance.  He  thought  a  great  deal  of  his 
position  as  a  member  of  the  Covenanted  Civil  Service; 
and  was  proud  of  having  passed  the  severe  com- 
petitive examination  by  which  the  service  is  recruited. 
He  looked  upon  military  men  with  a  mixture  of 
jealousy  and  contempt.  He  dressed  badly,  and  did 
not  shoot  or  ride  or  play  any  English  game ;  and 
he  would  accept  an  invitation  with  a  slow,  '  Well, 
I  think  I  will,'  which  did  not  strike  one  as 
particularly  courteous.  He  lived  on  much  less  than 
his  pay,  and  without  apparently  meaning  it,  was 
habitually  rude  to  his  wife,  a  harmless,  rather  pretty 
little  woman,  who  was  too  good  for  him.  Anderson 
was  absorbed  in  his  work,  and  was  always  talking 
'  shop,'  a  particularly  uninteresting  kind  of  shop,  full 
of  strange  abbreviations  and  Indian  technical  terms. 
He  knew  the  '  Civil  List '  by  heart,  and  was  great 
on  the  subject  of  appointments  and  promotions. 
Natives  of  India  disliked  him,  and  said  he  was 
'  not  a  Sahib.' 

The  second  of  the  young  civil  servants,  Arthur 
Goldney,  was  a  boy  just  out  from  England.  His 
father,  an  officer  of  the  Indian  army,  had  died  some 
years  before,  leaving  a  widow  and  several  children, 
among  whom  he  was  the  only  boy.  Mrs.  Goldney 
was   a  brave   little  woman,  and  though   left  with  a 

VOL.  I  G 


82  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

very  small  income,  she  had  managed  to  educate  her 
family  and  to  bring  them  up  in  decent  surroundings. 
The  boy  was  of  course  a  household  hero  from  his 
childhood,  but  he  was  too  modest  to  be  spoilt;  and, 
moreover,  his  mother,  with  all  her  affection,  was 
sensible,  and  treated  him  properly.  He  did  well 
as  a  '  day  boy '  at  Tonbridge,  and  to  his  own  great 
surprise  passed  for  the  Indian  Civil  Service  direct 
from  the  sixth  at  the  age  of  eighteen.  Goldney 
was  small  and  rather  delicate-looking,  with  a  very  fair 
skin  and  light  brown  curly  hair.  He  was  shy  and 
nervous  in  his  manner,  and  had  a  gitlish  trick  of 
blushing  which  caused  him  untold  misery.  Some 
one  had  christened  him  the  '  Pink  'un,'  and  the  name 
had  stuck.  The  Pink  'un  did  his  work  well,  and 
was  cruelly  robbed  by  his  servants.  Anderson  said 
he  was  '  soft,'  and  greatly  despised  him. 

Then  there  was  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  Public 
Works  Department,  Captain  Lee  of  the  Engineers. 
He  was  a  good-looking  man  and  a  very  hard  rider. 
He  had  married,  a  year  or  two  before,  a  young  Irish 
girl,  with  pretty  eyes,  and  a  bright,  warm  manner 
which  was  very  taking. 

Practically  this  completed  the  small  circle  of  Syntia 
*  society.'  There  were  one  or  two  planters  in  the 
district  who  were  occasionally  seen  at  headquarters ; 
and  very  good  fellows  they  were  in  their  way — hard 
riders  and  pleasant  companions;  but,  except  for  a 
few  days  in  the  year,  they  lived  away  in  the  country 


VII  SYNTIA  83 

in  their  thatched  bungalows,  where  they  were  always 
ready  to  welcome  a  visitor  with  the  most  profuse 
hospitality.  There  were  also  a  few  men  of  mixed 
blood,  who  held  minor  posts  under  Government  or 
pleaded  in  the  Courts.  They  and  their  families  were 
seen  at  church,  and  some  of  them  at  the  Com- 
missioner's ball  on  the  Queen's  birthday,  but  they 
did  not  associate  with  the  English  residents. 

And  then  .  .  .  then  there  were  the  eight  millions 
of  '  natives/  who  stood  almost  wholly  apart  from  the 
little  knot  of  white  men.  There  were  many  gentle- 
men of  good  standing  in  the  division — nobles  and 
landowners  and  ofificials.  These  paid  more  or  less 
formal  visits  to  the  European  district  officers,  and 
some  received  a  formal  return  visit.  Occasionally 
one  of  them  gave  a  dance  or  other  entertainment 
to  the  European  community.  If  it  was  a  dinner, 
the  host  came  in  when  the  eating  was  over,  and 
sat  in  a  chair  at  some  distance  from  the  table  while 
his  health  was  proposed  and  drunk.  In  return,  the 
Europeans  generally  asked  the  chief  native  residents 
to  garden-parties,  and  sometimes  to  balls,  where 
they  looked  very  uncomfortable  and  out  of  place. 
But,  except  in  the  case  of  one  or  two  Mahometans, 
who  would  accept  an  invitation  to  dinner,  and  one 
or  two  Hindus,  who  played  Badminton  and  lawn- 
tennis,  there  was  little  social  intercourse  between 
the  races.  Imperfect  acquaintance  with  each  other's 
language  was   in   itself  a   serious  bar   to  such  inter- 


84  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  vii 

course,  and  there  were  other  obstacles.  Natives  and 
Europeans  alike  were  more  or  less  uncomfortable  and 
bored  in  each  other's  company. 

It  was  not  altogether  a  satisfactory  state  of  things. 
There  were  faults  on  both  sides.  The  fault  on  the 
English  side  was  a  tendency  to  show  too  little 
politeness  and  consideration ;  to  take  advantage  of 
the  want  of  independence  which  characterises  the 
oriental.  In  a  man  like  Treveryan  this  fault  did 
not  exist.  In  a  man  like  Anderson  it  was  marked. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  was  very  difficult  to  become 
socially  intimate  with  people  of  totally  different  habits 
and  views,  who  thought  it  a  disgrace  for  a  woman  to 
be  seen,  and  a  pollution  to  touch  your  food. 

Nevertheless,  there  was  much  good  feeling  and 
mutual  respect  between  the  two  races.  A  certain 
amount  of  stiffness  in  social  intercourse  does  not  pre- 
vent this.  Some  native  gentlemen  were  greatly  liked 
by  the  Europeans,  and  in  their  turn  they  trusted  their 
English  friends,  and  came  to  them  freely  for  help  in 
all  their  difficulties  and  troubles.  The  district  officers 
were  their  natural  advisers  and  protectors  against  all 
kinds  of  injury,  and  the  duty  was  honestly  and  kindly 
performed.  It  was  a  curious  state  of  affairs  alto- 
gether to  English  ideas,  but  the  Indian  Empire  is  in 
all  ways  a  marvellous  structure. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

SOME    MORNING    CALLS 

The  Thirtieth  Lancers  had  been  a  few  days  in  their 
new  quarters,  and  were  beginning  to  settle  down,  when 
Guy  Langley  and  Dale  made  their  first  attempt  to 
become  acquainted  with  their  fellow-countrymen  in 
Syntia. 

There  are  two  customs  in  India  which  strike  a 
newly-arrived  Englishman  as  curious.  In  the  first 
place,  newcomers  are  expected  to  call  on  the  older 
residents,  who,  unless  for  extraordinary  reasons,  always 
return  the  call,  and  then  take  or  avoid  steps  towards  a 
better  acquaintance.  In  a  small  and  peculiar  society 
like  the  English  society  of  India,  where,  except  at  one 
or  two  commercial  ports,  almost  every  one  is  a  servant 
of  the  State,  the  call  and  return  call  are  in  the  nature 
of  ofiicial  formalities.  After  this  preliminary  people 
sort  themselves ;  but  every  one  holding  a  certain  rank 
knows  every  one  else  as  a  matter  of  course.  Secondly, 
for  no  imaginable  reason,  the  visiting  hours  are  in  the 
extreme  heat  of  the  day,  from  twelve  to  two.  Except 
among  people  who  know  one  another  very  well  indeed 


86  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

an  afternoon  call  is  a  discourteous  exhibition  of 
'side.' 

One  night  after  dinner,  having  mastered  these  facts, 
and  obtained  some  information  about  the  inhabitants 
and  the  geography  of  the  Station,  the  two  young  men 
made  up  their  minds  to  set  forth  on  a  round  of  visits. 

Next  morning,  shortly  before  twelve  o'clock,  Guy 
Langley  sauntered  out  on  to  the  steps  of  the  little 
house  which  he  shared  with  Dale.  He  had  arrayed 
his  handsome  person  in  a  light  morning  suit  which 
showed  some  creases  from  long  confinement  in  a  box, 
but  was  as  good  a  fit  as  most  of  Poole's  masterpieces ; 
and,  on  the  whole,  he  was  satisfied  with  the  result. 

The  sky  was  cloudless,  and  a  faint  northerly 
breeze  stirred  the  blossoms  of  the  purple  creeper 
which  covered  the  pillars  of  the  porch.  Under  its 
flat  roof,  in  front  of  the  steps,  was  standing  the  dog- 
cart in  which  they  proposed  to  make  their  expedition. 
Dale  had  bought  it  from  one  of  the  officers  of  the  out- 
going regiment,  and  was  now  standing  on  the  steps 
looking  over  his  purchase  with  evident  complacency. 
It  was  a  very  light  cart,  with  varnished  woodwork, 
rather  high,  but  not  too  high  for  the  little  mare  which 
stood  in  the  shafts,  very  neatly  turned  out  in  brown 
harness  with  bright  brass  mountings. 

The  mare  was  a  picture.  She  belonged  to  a  class 
which  was  to  be  found  in  India  in  those  days,  the 
*  stud-bred.'  Horses  raised  in  the  Government  breed- 
ing   establishments,    if    they    proved    unsuitable    for 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  87 

cavalry  or  artillery  work,  were  sold  to  the  public, 
and  very  good  horses  they  were.  '  Bess '  was  a  good 
specimen  of  the  class.  She  stood  barely  fifteen  hands, 
and  was  certainly  light;  but  there  was  no  other  fault 
to  be  found  with  her.  In  colour  she  was  a  bright 
bay.  The  beautiful  head,  with  tapering  muzzle  and 
large  full  eye ;  the  satin  skin  through  which  the  net- 
work of  veins  stood  out ;  the  small  foot,  as  hard  as 
iron ;  all  showed  Arab  blood,  but  Arab  blood  crossed 
and  improved  by  the  blood  of  the  English  thorough- 
bred. There  was  more  reach  and  length  than  one  can 
find  in  the  Arab,  possibly  less  compactness  for  those 
whose  eyes  are  trained  to  the  Arab  shape,  but  a  look 
of  greater  stride  and  speed.  She  had  a  good  shoulder, 
with  the  higher  withers  and  longer  slope  of  the  English 
horse,  and  was  almost  too  high  in  the  quarters,  which 
from  behind  showed  squarer  than  one  would  have 
expected,  though  they  were  a  little  light  and  ragged. 
That  was  perhaps  partly  owing  to  the  fact  that  the 
mare  carried  no  flesh.  At  the  moment  Bess  was 
behaving  in  a  manner  characteristic  of  her  sex.  Her 
ears  were  laid  back,  and  her  teeth  showing,  and  every 
two  or  three  seconds  the  pretty  fidgety  head  made  a 
quick  snap  at  the  man  who  stood  in  front  of  her. 
Her  near  hind  leg  was  up,  and  the  glittering  shoe 
struck  sharply  at  times  upon  the  iron  edge  of  the  step 
next  the  house  door.  It  was  all  feminine  nonsense,  as 
Dale  well  knew.  Though  she  answered  his  voice  by 
a   turn   of  the  head  and  a  series  of  vicious -looking 


88  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

snaps  over  her  shoulder,  she  had  never  bitten  any  one 
in  her  life ;  and  she  would  not  have  dreamt  of  kicking 
at  the  step  when  any  one's  foot  was  on  it.  She  was 
impatient  of  restraint,  and  would  be  troublesome  at 
times  if  kept  standing ;  and  the  cut  of  a  whip  made 
her  furious;  but  she  was  a  high-bred  lady,  and  in- 
capable of  any  vulgar  tricks. 

Pooran,  the  native  groom,  or  syce,  who  had  charge 
of  her,  was  a  good  fellow  and  very  proud  of  the  mare. 
He  had  followed  her  when  she  was  sold,  and  Dale  was 
glad  to  get  him.  Dark  and  slight,  with  a  smooth  face 
and  white  teeth  and  a  waist  like  a  girl's,  Pooran  looked 
and  felt  very  smart  in  his  tight-fitting  livery  of  dark 
blue  cloth  faced  with  a  lighter  shade  of  the  same 
colour.  He  wore  a  silver  crest  in  the  front  of  his 
turban  of  intertwisted  blues;  and  his  brown  legs 
emerged,  free  to  run,  from  light  drawers  of  pinkish 
cotton.  Those  thin  bare  legs,  without  a  sign  of  calf, 
could  carry  him  over  the  ground  in  a  very  surprising 
way.  Englishmen  in  India  do  not  adhere  to  the 
native  custom  of  making  syces  trot  behind  their 
carriages;  but  even  now  these  men  seem  to  have  a 
wonderful  hereditary  power  of  running.  Pooran,  if 
required,  could  go  for  an  hour  at  a  time,  and  finish 
fresh  and  cool,  having  hardly  turned  a  hair.  He  had 
one  slight  failing :  like  many  of  his  caste  he  was  too 
fond  of  drink ;  but  he  was  a  good  boy,  and  turned  out 
his  mare  most  creditably,  her  skin  shining  with  a 
metallic  lustre,  and  her  bit  as  bright  as  the  burnish 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  89 

would  make  it.  To  him  the  mare's  corn  was  a  sacred 
thing,  not  to  be  stolen  even  for  his  own  dinner,  and 
woe  came  upon  the  grass-cutter  who  dared  to  bring 
her  bad  grass. 

'At  last,'  Dale  said  as  Guy  came  out;  'I  have 
been  waiting  a  good  half -hour,  and  the  mare  has 
kicked  the  trap  nearly  to  bits.  Now  I  would  not 
mind  betting  you  have  forgotten  your  cards.' 

'  Get  in,  Chimp,  and  don't  be  childish.  She  wants 
to  be  off.'  Dale  walked  round  to  the  off  wheel,  and 
the  two  of  them  got  up  smartly,  together,  the  mare 
making  a  dash  to  the  front  directly  they  were  along- 
side. The  boy  Pooran  held  on  to  her  head  for  a 
second  until  they  were  fairly  up ;  then  he  let  go,  and 
she  went  off  with  a  bound,  while  he  scrambled  up 
behind.  The  cart  fairly  flew  down  the  short  drive 
and  out  into  the  road,  the  mare  lurching  up  into  her 
collar  in  a  way  that  must  have  tried  the  brown 
harness.  Then  gradually  Dale's  strong  little  hands 
pulled  her  into  a  regular  though  rather  vehement  trot, 
and  they  went  bowling  down  the  smooth  road  towards 
the  Civil  Station.  In  India,  before  local  self-govern- 
ment was  imposed  upon  a  wondering  people,  the 
district  officers  knew  how  to  keep  up  good  roads. 
With  a  centre  of  tough  kunker  conglomerate,  and 
grassy  side-pieces  fringed  by  lines  of  trees,  these  roads 
were  equally  pleasant  for  riding  and  driving.  The 
mare  of  her  own  accord  kept  to  the  centre,  and 
the    cart   travelled    fast.      In    less    than    a     quarter 


90  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

of  an  hour  they  were  at  the  entrance  of  the  Civil 
Lines. 

The  first  house  on  the  road  was  Oldham's.  It  was 
a  low,  flat -roofed  house,  standing  in  a  square  grass 
compound  which  was  enclosed  by  a  mud  wall  about 
four  feet  high.  One  of  the  whitewashed  pillars  of  the 
gateway  bore  the  name  W.  Oldham,  C.S.,  painted  on  a 
small  board.  The  house  was  whitewashed  also,  and 
though  the  grass  looked  dry  and  dusty,  the  general 
effect  of  the  white  house,  lying  under  the  bright  blue 
sky,  with  a  few  mango  trees  about  it,  was  not  un- 
pleasing. 

The  Judge  Sahib  was  out  of  course,  gone  to  his 
Court,  and  they  left  cards  for  him. 

Then  they  drove  through  another  gateway  in 
another  mud  wall,  to  another  flat -roofed  house,  and 
asked  for  Mrs.  Anderson.  Mrs.  Anderson  was  in,  and 
received  them  in  a  stiff,  barely  furnished  drawing- 
room  with  a  round  table  in  the  middle.  The  walls 
were  painted  light  green  and  picked  out  at  the  corners 
with  a  pattern  in  darker  colour.  Mrs.  Anderson  was 
shy  and  had  not  much  to  say,  and  the  visit  soon 
ended.  Her  husband  was  out,  she  said  —  gone  to 
cutchery,  and  would  be  so  sorry  to  have  missed  them, 
which  was  more  polite  than  true. 

When  they  came  out  the  mare  was  wrenching  to 
get  her  head  free,  and  she  went  off  with  a  jump  again. 
She  had  only  a  few  hundred  yards  to  go  before  she 
came  to  the  house  where  the  Hunters  lived,  and  she 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  91 

was  pulled  up  in  front  of  their  door  very  unwillingly. 
The  house  was  smarter -looking  than  those  already 
visited.  There  were  some  shrubs  and  flower-beds  in 
front,  and  the  gateway  and  drive  were  neatly  kept. 
Mrs.  Hunter  was  at  home,  and  Dale  said  '  Blow  it ! ' 
in  a  very  audible  voice.  She  was  pleasant  enough, 
however,  and  he  rather  liked  her. 

Then  the  mare  began  to  give  trouble.  When  they 
came  out  they  found  her  pawing  the  ground  and 
backing,  while  Pooran  hung  on  to  her  head  and  made 
libellous  remarks  about  her  female  relatives.  She 
stood  still  when  Dale  called  to  her,  and  the  boys  got 
up  and  told  Pooran  to  let  go,  but  the  mare  did  not 
move  forward.  She  shook  her  head  and  bored  down- 
wards at  her  bit,  and  planted  her  forefeet  firmly. 
Thereupon  Dale  was  foolish  enough  to  touch  ber 
sharply  with  the  whip.  She  jumped  forward  with  a 
loud  snort,  and  then  began  to  back — rapidly  this  time, 
and  in  such  a  way  as  to  twist  the  cart  round  against 
the  steps.  When  she  had  the  wheels  pasted  against 
them  she  snorted  again,  defiantly,  and  pawed  the 
ground.  Dale  began  to  lose  his  temper  and  swear. 
Guy  was  laughing  gently.  '  Don't  be  an  ass.  Chimp,' 
he  said,  'and  don't  hit  her.  She's  not  that  sort' 
Next  moment  he  was  down  and  at  her  head.  She 
snapped  at  him,  or  rather  towards  him,  but  he  took 
her  by  the  rein  close  up,  and  petted  her  until  she  grew 
quieter.  In  a  minute  or  two  she  let  him  lead  her 
forward,  throwing  up  her  head  at  first,  but  soon  giving 


92  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

way,  though  reluctantly.  Then  Guy  got  back  into  his 
seat,  and  the  mare  was  coaxed  into  a  slow  and  pre- 
carious trot.  Finally  she  settled  down  again,  and 
when  they  drove  through  another  gap  in  another  mud 
wall,  and  pulled  up  at  the  door  of  another  flat  white 
bungalow,  the  '  Vicarage,'  she  seemed  to  have  recovered 
her  temper. 

The  Padre  Sahib  was  in,  and  received  them  warmly, 
with  offers  of  a  brandy  and  soda,  and  conversation 
about  pig -sticking.  He  came  out  and  admired  the 
mare  when  they  left,  showing  a  considerable  know- 
ledge of  her  good  points.  He  measured  her  carefully 
under  the  knee  with  his  pocket-handkerchief,  in  spite 
of  her  snapping,  and  rejoiced  at  the  result ;  and  then 
stood  bald-headed  in  the  sun,  smiling  at  them  as  they 
drove  away.  '  Nice  boys,'  he  said,  as  he  went  back  to 
his  room  to  write  his  sermon,  and  Dale  was  delighted 
with  him.  '  Jolly  old  chap,'  was  his  verdict.  '  Pity 
all  parsons  are  not  like  that.  We'll  get  him  over  to 
dinner  and  give  him  a  skinful  of  fizz.' 

Then  they  left  cards  for  MacLean  and  the  Pink 
'un,  who  had  already  called  at  the  mess,  and  went  on 
to  the  Lees.  Mrs.  Lee  was  not  receiving  visitors  that 
day.  Darwdza  hund,  the  man  said,  the  door  is  shut. 
After  that  they  made  for  the  Civil  Surgeon's.  They 
proposed  going  last  of  all  to  Colonel  Treveryan's  and 
staying  there  to  lunch  if  they  were  asked. 

The  way  to  the  Doctor  Sahib's  house  was  a  very 
bad  one.     The  house  lay  off  the  metalled  road,  and 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  93 

was  approached  by  a  narrow  lane  in  which  the  dust 
lay  six  inches  deep,  between  low  mud  walls  topped 
with  a  kind  of  cactus  or  prickly  pear.  Here  and 
there  a  tall  palm  or  a  group  of  feathery  bamboos  over- 
shadowed the  wall.  The  boys  drove  down  this  lane 
until  they  came  to  a  house  smaller  and  barer  and 
dustier-looking  than  any  of  the  others.  There  was  not 
a  vestige  of  flower-garden ;  nothing  but  dust  and  dry 
grass.  The  front  of  the  little  square  house  had  a 
narrow  piece  of  verandah  in  the  middle,  but  no  portico. 
The  plaster  was  hanging  from  the  pillars  of  the 
verandah,  and  peeling  from  the  two  steps  which  led 
up  to  it.  At  one  end  of  the  verandah,  on  the  broken 
plaster  floor,  was  a  tin  plate,  with  some  dog-biscuit 
sticking  to  the  bottom.  At  the  other  end  was  a  little 
strip  of  drugget,  upon  which  lay  some  unfinished 
needlework.  In  the  middle  was  a  door,  covered  by  a 
cliih  or  hanging  transparent  mat,  the  straws  of  which 
were  broken  and  protruding.  Above  the  door,  nailed 
to  the  whitewashed  wall  by  a  strip  of  skin,  and  hang- 
ing rather  crooked,  was  a  very  badly  cured  antelope's 
head,  the  rough  bone  showing  at  the  root  of  the  spiral 
horns,  the  ears  broken,  and  the  face  gone  bare  in 
patches,  with  some  dirty  cotton  wool  in  the  nostrils. 

There  was  no  servant  to  be  seen  about  this  dreadful 
abode,  and  after  calling  out  once  or  twice  Dale  pro- 
posed to  give  it  up.  '  What  a  beastly  hole,'  he  said. 
'  They  live  in  rum  places  out  here,  but  this  licks 
everything.      Let's  leave  cards  on  the  verandah  and 


94  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

go.'  Guy  agreed  doubtfully,  and  they  were  about  to 
do  so  when  they  were  stopped  by  the  appearance  of  a 
small  boy  who  came  round  the  corner  of  the  house. 

The  boy  was  worthy  of  his  dwelling-place.  He 
had  a  dirty  white  face  and  sandy  hair,  half-hidden  by 
a  broken  pith  hat.  His  clothing  consisted  of  a  blue 
jersey,  blue  serge  breeches,  too  short  for  him  and  badly 
frayed  at  the  knees,  and  a  pair  of  lace  boots  without 
laces,  above  which  one  could  just  see  the  tops  of  some 
loose  wrinkled  stockings.  The  thin  white  legs  were 
covered  with  cuts  and  bruises.  This  was  young 
George  Beamish,  generally  known  as  the  Limb.  He 
stopped  in  front  of  the  mare  and  called  out  with  an 
accent  in  which  the  Irish  brogue  of  his  parents 
struggled  through  the  nasal  twang  of  the  country - 
bred  child :  '  The  bearer's  gone  to  his  dinner,  and 
mother  says  you're  to  come  in.  She'll  be  coming 
directly.' 

Guy  and  Dale  looked  at  one  another  and  got  down, 
and  walked  through  the  doorway,  lifting  the  broken 
chih.  As  they  came  into  the  room  another  door 
opposite,  from  which  the  wind  was  blowing  out  a 
thin  red  curtain,  was  hastily  closed  by  some  one  in 
stockinged  feet.  It  was  Mrs.  Beamish,  who  generally 
spent  her  mornings  in  a  back  verandah,  clothed  in  her 
dressing-gown,  with  her  fine  hair  rolled  into  a  loose 
knot,  discussing  household  questions  with  her  native 
servants.  She  was  now  dressing  rapidly  to  receive 
her  visitors. 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  95 

They  sat  down  in  the  little  untidy  room,  finding  it 
rather  pleasant  to  be  out  of  the  sun,  and  the  boy 
pushed  aside  the  chik  and  stood  looking  at  them.  Guy 
saw  him  and  called  him  in.  He  came  with  his  hat  on, 
holding  in  his  hand  a  rough  wicker  bird-cage,  the 
pointed  top  downwards.  There  was  something  black 
inside,  and  Dale  asked  him  what  it  was.  He  held  it 
up,  showing  a  dead  bat,  curled  into  a  shapeless  lump, 
and  unpleasant  to  the  senses.  '  Poof,  how  it  stinks,' 
Dale  said.  'What  do  you  bring  the  disgusting  thing 
in  here  for  ? '  The  boy  laughed  and  went  out  of  the 
room,  as  his  mother  came  in,  full  of  apologies  for 
keeping  them  waiting. 

She  was  a  good-tempered  woman,  with  rather  coarse 
features  not  very  clearly  cut,  and  she  spoke  volubly 
with  a  magnificent  brogue.  From  the  first  she  and 
Dale  were  on  familiar  terms,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he 
was  imitating  her  to  her  face.  The  imitation  was  bad 
of  course;  an  Englishman,  not  bred  in  Ireland,  can 
never  talk  Irish;  but  it  was  impudent  and  obvious. 
'  Ah  !  now  you're  laughing  at  me,'  she  said.  '  What  a 
shame ; '  but  they  parted  the  best  of  friends — the  lady 
seeing  her  guests  to  the  door.  She  called  the  mare  a 
'beautiful  harse,'  and  begged  them  to  come  again 
whenever  they  could  spare  the  time,  and  Dale  pro- 
mised freely. 

As  they  were  about  to  drive  away  they  heard  a 
sharp  twitter  of  alarm,  and  saw  one  of  the  little  gray 
squirrels    which    swarm    about    Indian    '  compounds ' 


96  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

throw  up  its  tail  and  race  along  the  ground  towards  a 
tree,  pursued  'by  the  Limb  and  a  fox-terrier  puppy. 
The  squirrel  got  safely  up  the  trunk  and  lay  on  a 
branch  looking  downwards,  twittering  at  intervals  and 
flirting  its  tail  up  perpendicularly.  Then  the  Limb 
proceeded  to  have  some  sport.  He  had  exchanged  his 
dead  bat  for  a  gaUl  or  pellet-bow,  and  he  now  fitted  a 
clay  pellet  on  to  the  double  string  with  an  ease  which 
showed  constant  practice.  His  first  shot  was  excellent. 
The  pellet  shattered  itself  on  the  branch  just  under 
the  squirrel's  feet,  and  sent  the  little  creature  scurrying 
up  the  tree  in  terror.  After  that  it  was  more  wary, 
and  kept  under  cover,  dodging  rapidly  from  branch  to 
branch.  The  Limb  soon  grew  tired  of  looking  for  it, 
and  Dale,  who  had  been  watching  the  sport  with  keen 
interest,  let  the  mare  have  her  head.  She  was  getting 
impatient  again. 

As  they  drove  towards  the  gate,  he  called  out  to 
the  boy  with  a  laugh,  '  What  a  little  duffer  you  are. 
You  can't  shoot  a  bit'  It  was  a  rash  speech  under 
the  circumstances,  and  it  was  fearfully  punished.  The 
Limb  saw  his  chance  and  jumped  at  it.  '  I  will  shoot 
you,'  he  called  out  with  his  nasal  twang,  and  turned 
his  bow  upon  them.  Then  he  changed  his  mind  and 
ran  towards  the  mud  wall  along  which  they  had  to 
pass  on  turning  out  of  the  gate.  '  Look  out.  Chimp, 
the  little  devil  means  it,'  Guy  said,  and  they  sent  the 
mare  out  of  the  gate  and  down  the  lane  at  a  smart 
trot.     They  were  just  too  late.     The  Limb  knew  his 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  97 

ground  and  had  them  'on  toast.'  They  were  ten 
yards  from  the  gate  when  his  bare  sandy  head  and 
eager  eyes  topped  the  wall  just  ahead  of  them.  The 
mare  shied  wildly  across  the  road,  frightened  by  the 
sudden  apparition,  and  almost  as  she  did  so  the  bow 
twanged  and  the  hard  clay  pellet  struck  her  fair  on  the 
quarter  with  a  crack  like  a  pistol-shot. 

How  they  got  through  the  next  minute  or  two 
without  a  smash  they  never  quite  knew.  As  the  blow 
came  the  mare  plunged  forward  with  a  mad  snort  of 
pain  and  rage,  then  landed  both  heels  hard  against  the 
splash-board  and  went  off  at  a  furious  gallop.  As  they 
bumped  along  the  dusty  lane,  they  heard  behind  them 
the  Limb's  yell  of  triumph,  and  a  second  pellet  flew 
over  their  heads.  In  a  few  seconds  they  were  out 
of  range,  but  by  no  means  out  of  danger,  for  the  laije 
was  only  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long,  and  it  met  the  road 
at  right  angles.  It  seemed  impossible  that  they  could 
turn  the  corner  without  an  upset  at  the  pace  they 
were  going,  and  Dale  seemed  quite  unable  to  moderate 
it.  The  mare's  ears  were  laid  back  touching  her  neck, 
and  she  was  galloping  as  if  the  light  cart  which 
bounded  behind  her  was  no  impediment  whatever. 
Nothing  saved  them  but  the  mare's  own  good  sense. 
You  could  always  depend  upon  her  in  a  difficulty. 
As  they  neared  the  end  of  the  lane  her  ears  went  up, 
and  there  was  a  falter  in  her  stride.  Before  them, 
twenty  yards  off,  was  the  yellow  strip  of  metalled 
road,  and  beyond  it  the  opposite  bank.      If  the  bank 

VOL.  I  H 


98  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

had  been  "bare,  she  would  probably  have  gone  at  it,  for 
there  was  little  time  to  think,  and  she  could  jump 
like  a  deer ;  but  luckily  it  was  at  this  point  closely 
fringed  with  bamboos,  and  in  all  her  excitement  she 
was  not  going  to  jump  into  a  bamboo  thicket.  As 
she  came  to  the  road  she  broke  and  tried  to  stop,  and 
went  round  the  corner  to  the  right.  It  was  a  very 
close  thing,  and  for  a  second  Guy  gasped  as  he  hung 
on  to  his  seat.  The  off  side  lifted,  and  the  cart  came 
spinning  round  on  the  near  wheel,  which  whirred 
upon  the  hard  hunker.  But  it  did  get  round,  and 
a  moment  later  Pooran  was  at  the  mare's  head,  and 
she  was  standing  by  the  road-side,  trembling  all  over 
and  bathed  with  sweat,  her  crimson  nostrils  dilating 
rapidly  and  her  eyes  very  wild,  but  in  hand. 

Till  then  Dale  had  been  taken  up  with  their  own 
danger,  but  now  that  it  was  over  his  thoughts  recurred 
to  the  cause  of  it,  and  the  language  that  he  used  was 
dreadful.  Very  little  encouragement  from  Guy  would 
have  sent  him  back  to  catch  the  child  and  give  him 
condign  punishment.  Fortunately  Guy  could  sympa- 
thise with  the  other  side  of  the  question.  '  Bosh, 
Chimp,'  he  said  with  a  laugh.  'The  little  beggar 
scored  all  round.  You  began  it,  you  know.  He's  a 
horrid  little  beast ;  but  it  was  very  funny.' 

'Devilish  funny,  I  daresay;  but  you  wouldn't 
have  laughed  if  you  had  found  the  cart  on  the  top  of 
you  at  the  corner.  Little  brute !  I'd  like  to  break 
his  neck.'     Dale's  wrath  was  not  decreased  by  seeing 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  99 

a  broad  smile  on  the  face  of  Pooran.  However,  to  do 
him  justice,  he  was  not  vindictive,  and  though  he 
growled  a  little  more  it  was  not  long  before  he  was 
pacified.  Then  they  got  the  mare  quiet  and  resumed 
their  road.  They  still  had  to  call  on  Colonel  Treveryan, 
and  if  possible  to  get  some  lunch. 

The  Treveryans'  house  was  a  contrast  to  the  one 
from  which  they  had  just  been  hunted.  It  stood  high, 
facing  to  the  north,  in  the  centre  of  a  piece  of  grass 
land  covering  perhaps  a  square  mile.  Good  roads 
surrounded  this  land  on  all  sides,  and  from  them  well- 
kept  drives,  running  through  avenues  of  tall  trees,  led 
to  the  hall  door.  As  Guy  and  Dale  drove  through 
the  main  gateway  from  the  eastward,  they  passed  on 
their  right  a  fine  grove  of  mango  trees,  behind  which 
were  the  stables  and  connected  buildings,  while*  on 
their  left  was  an  open  sward.  A  little  farther  on, 
where  the  mango  grove  ended,  they  came  upon  a 
covered  swimming-bath,  a  flock  of  pigeons  wheeling  in 
the  blue  sky  above  it.  On  the  other  side  the  grass 
had  given  place  to  a  garden,  separated  from  the  road 
by  a  thick  hedge  and  some  flowering  shrubs,  and  then 
they  came  to  the  house  steps.  In  front  of  the  house, 
to  the  north,  the  ground  sloped  down  towards  the 
river,  which  was  perhaps  a  mile  away.  Looking  in 
that  direction  one  could  see  the  yellow  sands,  from 
which  the  floods  of  the  rainy  season  had  receded,  and 
beyond  them  a  stretch  of  well-timbered  undulating 
country  fading   into    the   blue  distance.       Over    the 


100  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

river  and  up  the  grassy  slope  came  the  cool  dry 
northerly  breeze,  just  stirring  the  pendent  white  blos- 
soms of  the  lofty  cork  trees  in  the  avenue  and  sighing 
through  the  feathery  branches  of  the  casuarinas  about 
the  house,  with  a  sound  like  the  sound  of  a  distant 
sea. 

As  the  dog-cart  pulled  up,  a  native  servant,  well 
dressed  and  beautifully  clean,  his  forehead  bearing  the 
caste  marks  in  sandalwood  powder,  came  down  the  steps 
with  a  low  salaam,  and  received  upon  a  silver  waiter 
the  cards  which  the  two  young  men  sent  in.  At  the 
same  time  he  asked  them  to  follow  him.  They  alighted 
and  walked  up  the  steps  into  an  anteroom  lined  with 
book-shelves.  In  the  centre  of  this  room  was  a  low 
square  ottoman  heaped  with  cushions,  while  overhead 
some  canaries  were  singing  their  little  hearts  out  as 
the  breeze  faintly  rocked  their  hanging  cages. 

Dale  said  they  were  making  a  beastly  row,  and  Guy 
reproved  him,  as  the  servant  led  them  on  to  the 
drawing-room.  This  was  a  large  and  lofty  room,  in 
the  centre  of  the  house,  and  was  lighted  from  the 
ceiling.  Upon  the  painted  walls,  of  a  delicate  shade 
of  pink,  were  hung  a  few  good  pictures.  A  piano 
stood  near  the  corner  to  the  right,  and  some  chairs  and 
couches  and  small  tables  were  scattered  about  the 
room.  Underfoot,  instead  of  a  carpet,  was  cool  smooth 
matting,  with  some  leopard-skin  rugs.  A  number  of 
doors  opened  into  the  dining-room  beyond,  and  into 
other  rooms  at  the  sides.     These  doors  were  all  open. 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  loi 

to  let  the  air  play  through,  but  curtains  of  bright 
striped  colours  were  hung  across  them,  and  separated 
one  room  from  another.  Opposite  the  main  entrance, 
between  the  two  curtained  doors  leading  to  the  dining- 
room,  was  a  large  mirror,  in  which,  as  he  walked  in 
and  found  the  room  empty,  Guy  Langley  was  able  to 
contemplate  the  lie  of  his  hair  and  the  fit  of  his 
clothes. 

The  whole  bore  traces  of  a  woman's  presence,  and 
her  taste  was  specially  evident  in  the  arrangement  of 
the  flowers  with  which  every  corner  was  filled.  They 
were  there  in  masses,  great  clusters  of  Gloire  de 
Dijon  roses,  yellow  and  purple  pansies,  and  fragrant 
violets,  the  flowers  of  the  old  country  mixed  with  the 
blossoms  of  Indian  flowering  trees.  Guy  was  quick  to 
notice  these  things,  and  all  he  saw  of  Helen  Trevery^n's 
abode  during  the  minute  that  he  was  waiting  for  her 
arrival  seemed  consistent  with  what  he  had  heard  of  her. 
He  was  therefore  prepared  to  see  some  one  different 
from  Mrs.  Beamish  or  Mrs.  Anderson.  But  when  the 
curtain  of  a  door  near  the  piano  was  drawn  aside  and 
she  walked  forward  to  receive  her  visitors,  both  of  them 
were  fairly  taken  aback,  and  Guy's  handsome  eyes 
opened  with  an  expression  of  pleased  admiration  which 
an  older  woman  would  not  have  failed  to  recognise. 

The  girl  made,  in  truth,  a  very  pretty  picture.  Tall 
and  erect,  with  a  well-shaped  head  and  graceful  move- 
ments, Helen  Treveryan  would  have  attracted  notice 
anywhere.     Though  slight  in  figure  she  did  not  look 


102  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

delicate.  There  was  health  and  strength  in  every  line 
and  gesture.  The  broad  chest,  not  yet  fully  developed; 
the  pale  but  clear  skin  through  which  the  blood  showed 
so  brightly  when  she  blushed ;  the  firm  step  and  up- 
right carriage ;  all  told  of  a  good  constitution  and  a 
country  childhood.  Her  hair  was  of  a  bright  beautiful 
brown — English  brown — neither  dark  nor  red,  nor 
flaxen  ;  neither  Celtic  nor  German.  It  grew  rather  low 
on  a  broad  straight  forehead,  and  was  very  thick  at  the 
temples.  Her  eyes  were  dark  and  rather  deepset; 
they  looked  at  you  quite  fearlessly,  but  they  were  gentle 
eyes,  without  hardness  or  criticism.  You  felt  at  once 
that  you  could  trust  Helen  Treveryan,  and  you  felt  it 
more  when  she  spoke.  That  steady  low  voice  was  a 
thing  that  could  not  deceive.  She  had  small  ears,  very 
prettily  shaped,  small  wrists  and  small  firm  hands, 
white  and  womanly,  and  yet  capable  of  giving  you  an 
honest  welcome.  She  wore  a  gray  dress,  trimmed  with 
a  little  dark  gray  velvet.  In  the  breast  of  it  she  had 
fastened  a  bunch  of  violets.  By  her  side  stood  the 
deer-hound  '  Eex,'  her  inseparable  companion. 

She  came  forward  with  a  faint  flush  on  her  cheek, 
and  stood  for  a  moment  looking  from  one  of  the  young 
men  to  the  other,  with  something  like  an  inquiry  in 
her  eyes.  Guy  guessed  her  doubts,  and  smiled  as  he 
shook  hands  with  her.  '  It  is  puzzling  to  have  two  of 
us  strangers  coming  together,'  he  said ;  '  my  name  is 
Langley.'  She  smiled  slightly  too,  and  said,  '  Thank 
you.     That  is  a  real  kindness.     Every  one  is  not  so 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  103 

thoughtful.'  Then  they  fell  into  conversation,  helped 
out  by  Eex.  He  approved  of  both  the  young  men, 
and  especially  of  Guy,  to  whom  he  returned,  pushing 
up  Guy's  hand  with  his  head,  to  be  petted. 

They  talked  on  for  a  few  minutes,  and  Guy  was 
charmed.  From  the  first  Helen  Treveryan's  sweet  face 
and  frank  unaffected  manner  won  him  completely. 
She  was  composed  and  dignified  in  all  she  said  and  did, 
but  now  and  then  he  saw  her  eyes  brighten  with  fun, 
and  he  knew  she  understood  him.  Before  they  had 
been  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  the  room  together  they 
were  good  friends,  and  it  pleased  him  greatly  to  feel  it. 
Dale  liked  her  too,  but  he  felt  a  little  shy  with  her. 
She  was  in  a  sense  too  old  for  him. 

Guy  was  beginning  to  think  with  regret  that  they 
must  bring  their  visit  to  an  end,  when  Helen  said, 
'  Here  is  my  father ; '  and  Colonel  Treveryan  walked 
into  the  room. 

He  was  a  tall  spare  man,  with  a  good  figure  and 
handsome  face,  neatly  dressed  and  booted.  His  wavy 
brown  hair,  of  the  same  colour  as  his  daughter's,  was 
thick  and  almost  untouched  by  gray.  His  eyes  were 
hers  over  again,  but  his  fair  skin  was  bronzed  by  the 
sun,  and  his  mouth  was  covered  by  a  heavy  moustache. 
At  a  short  distance,  in  the  saddle  particularly,  or  in 
flannels  on  the  tennis-court,  he  seemed  a  young  man 
still.  It  was  not  until  you  looked  closely  into  his  face, 
and  saw  the  lines  about  his  eyes  and  mouth,  that  you 
could  believe  he  had  seen  his  fiftieth  year. 


104  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

Colonel  Treveryan  shook  hands  with  the  two  young 
men  as  his  daughter  introduced  them,  and  then  said, 
'  I  hope  you  are  going  to  stay  to  lunch.  It  is  just  two 
o'clock.'  Guy  assented  willingly,  with  a  look  at  Dale, 
and  a  few  minutes  later  lunch  was  announced. 

The  morning's  drive  in  the  sun  and  their  mad 
gallop  had  made  them  thirsty,  and  a  long  tumbler  of 
iced  whisky  and  soda  seemed  to  them  very  delicious. 
Guy  noticed  with  illogical  satisfaction  that  Helen  drank 
nothing  but  water ;  and  her  father,  like  many  men  of 
Indian  experience,  was  equally  abstemious.  As  they 
ate  their  lunch,  Helen  told  her  father  about  the  flight 
from  the  Doctor's.  '  What  a  little  scamp  that  boy  is/ 
Colonel  Treveryan  said.  '  It  is  very  lucky  he  did  not 
break  your  necks.  Beamish  ought  to  keep  him  in 
order.     He  wants  a  good  whipping  occasionally.' 

Helen  demurred  at  once.  '  Poor  little  fellow  !  I 
won't  have  him  abused.  We  are  great  friends.  He 
is  not  really  a  bad  boy,  father ;  only  he  is  so  much 
alone  and  he  gets  into  mischief.  He  is  never  trouble- 
some when  he  comes  here.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  looked  at  her  and  smiled.  '  I 
believe  you  would  stand  up  for  the  Old  Gentleman 
himself  if  you  heard  anything  said  against  him.' 

'No,  I  shouldn't,  daddy;  and  you  must  not  be 
wicked.  But  I  am  sure  Georgie  did  not  mean  any 
harm,  and  you  know  it  was  really  Mr.  Dale's  fault, 
wasn't  it  ? '  she  said,  turning  towards  him. 

Dale  objected  indignantly ;  and  Guy  took  Helen's 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  105 

side,  and  they  had  a  merry  discussion,  which  ended  in 
an  agreement  that  the  Limb  had  got  the  best  of  it  all 
along  the  line. 

By  the  time  lunch  was  over,  Guy  was  thoroughly 
at  home  with  the  Treveryans ;  and  when  Colonel  Tre- 
veryan  remarked  that  it  was  Saturday  afternoon,  and 
that  he  meant  to  take  a  half-holiday,  Guy  agreed  with- 
out difficulty  to  stop  and  have  a  cigar,  and  Dale,  though 
he  did  not  smoke,  made  no  objection. 

They  walked  out  to  the  broad  south  verandah,  which 
at  that  time  of  the  year  was  only  pleasantly  warm, 
though  the  sun  had  been  on  it  all  day.  It  was  screened 
by  one  or  two  habul  trees,  with  light  green  foliage  and 
round  fluffy  yellow  blossoms,  which  grew  close  by  the 
wall  of  the  house.  Beyond  them  was  a  level  stretch  of 
grass  almost  big  enough  for  a  cavalry  parade-ground,  a^d 
beyond  that  a  hedge  and  road,  backed  by  a  dark  line 
of  mango  trees,  with  some  slender  palms  standing  out 
against  the  horizon  above  them.  Just  inside  the  road, 
on  the  grass,  was  a  giant  banyan,  with  hanging  boughs 
which  had  touched  and  taken  root,  forming  a  grove 
thirty  or  forty  yards  in  diameter.  Nearer,  to  the 
right,  a  single  cork  tree,  with  hanging  white  blossoms, 
reared  its  straight  tall  form  into  the  cloudless  sky. 

The  three  men  sat  in  easy  cane  chairs,  looking  out 
through  the  light  branches  of  the  hahul  trees  and  chat- 
ting, while  the  breeze  came  through  the  house  behind 
them.  Helen  Treveryan  had  left  them,  to  write  letters, 
she  said,  much  to  Guy's  disappointment ;  but  her  father 


io6  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

was  a  pleasant  companion.  His  cigars  did  not  appeal 
to  Dale,  who  was  a  little  restless,  but  Guy,  with  his 
indolent  nature  and  his  enjoyment  of  all  things  beauti- 
ful, was  perfectly  happy.  He  was  surprised  when  he 
heard  a  clock  in  the  drawing-room  chime  four.  '  Is  it 
really  four  o'clock  ?  *  he  said,  looking  at  his  watch.  '  I 
had  no  idea  it  was  so  late.  We  must  be  going.  May 
I  ask  for  our  trap  ? ' 

But  Colonel  Treveryan  objected  again.  '  Don't  go,' 
he  answered,  *  unless  you've  something  to  do.  It  will 
be  warm  driving  over  just  now.  Come  round  and 
have  a  look  at  my  horses,  and  then,  I  daresay,  my 
daughter  will  give  us  a  cup  of  tea.' 

They  strolled  out  by  the  front  of  the  house  to  the 
swimming-bath.  The  green  Venetians  all  round  it  were 
closed,  and  the  water  looked  very  cool  and  inviting. 
Then  they  went  on  through  the  mango  grove  to  the 
stables,  scaring  on  their  road  a  gaunt  yellow  pariah 
dog,  who  was  stalking  a  pigeon  on  the  ground.  He 
trotted  off  a  few  yards,  and  stood  looking  at  them, 
satisfying  his  conscience  by  a  low,  lazy,  yelping  bark 
which  had  no  heart  in  it. 

Colonel  Treveryan's  stables  were  very  different  from 
what  Guy  and  Dale  were  accustomed  to  see  in  England, 
but  they  were  well  suited  to  the  climate.  They  were 
airy  buildings  of  unburnt  brick,  heavily  thatched,  and 
very  neat  and  clean,  with  a  pillared  verandah  in  front, 
and  a  roomy  loose  box  for  each  horse.  The  native 
servants  in  a  comfortable  undress  of  cotton  jacket  and 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  107 

drawers,  were  sitting  on  the  smooth  earth  outside  in 
the  sun  smoking.  One  of  the  animals  heard  his 
master's  voice  and  whinnied.  Colonel  Treveryan  was 
a  good  judge  of  a  horse,  and  all  he  had  were  worth 
having.  He  considered  it  part  of  a  district-ofi&cer's 
duty  to  be  thoroughly  well  set  up  in  that  way.  There 
was  a  pair  of  Australian  carriage  horses,  Walers  as 
they  are  called  in  India.  These  were  good-looking 
bays  about  fifteen-two,  with  plenty  of  substance  and 
not  badly  bred.  A  Waler  is  not  quite  as  good  as  the 
best  English  horse,  but  the  breed  is  improving  yearly ; 
and  a  good  Waler  is  not  to  be  despised,  either  for 
saddle  or  harness.  Then  there  was  a  pair  of  stud-bred 
chestnut  geldings,  better  looking  than  the  Walers  but 
lighter,  which  Colonel  Treveryan  generally  drove  in  a 
stanhope.  Two  more  Walers  filled  up  the  six  loose 
boxes  in  the  main  stable.  These  were  real  beauties, 
— Eomulus  and  Eemus,  a  brown  and  a  bay,  almost 
as  handsome  as  English  thoroughbreds.  Both  were 
well  up  to  Colonel  Treveryan's  weight;  and  both 
would  go  perfectly  straight  at  a  charging  boar,  which 
is  the  best  possible  test  of  a  horse's  courage.  Their 
master  gave  them  many  a  chance  of  showing  it,  for 
he  was  a  keen  sportsman.  In  a  smaller  stable  detached 
from  the  main  building  was  Helen's  horse,  Sultan,  a 
little  gray  Arab  about  fourteen-two.  To  Guy  Langley 
and  Dale  he  looked  like  a  pony,  with  his  compact 
frame  and  low  round  withers ;  but  they  could  appre- 
ciate the   clean   short  legs,  and  admire  the  beautiful 


io8  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

blood  head,  with  its  broad  jaw  and  forehead  and 
intelligent  eye.  Like  most  good  Arabs,  Sultan  seemed 
small  in  the  stable,  but  stood  double  the  size — another 
animal  altogether  when  mounted  and  moving. 

People  write  to  The  Field  that  Arabs  cannot  hold  a 
candle  to  English  horses.  Of  course  they  cannot  if 
you  put  the  two  together  on  a  racecourse,  or  to  carry 
a  heavy  man  over  a  grass  country.  You  might  as  well 
expect  a  Brixham  trawler  to  run  before  a  summer 
breeze  against  a  racing  crack.  But  try  both  in  a  beat 
to  windward  against  a  south-west  gale  with  a  big 
Atlantic  sea  coming  round  the  Lizard,  and  you  will 
see.  And  try  the  Arab  and  the  English  horse  on 
rough  service,  with  scanty  food  and  bad  water  and 
long  marches,  and  you  will  see  again. 

Away  in  another  stable  by  herself  was  Bess,  who 
laid  her  ears  back  and  snapped  when  they  came  to  her. 
Colonel  Treveryan  admired  her  duly,  and  thereby  won 
Dale's  heart.  Then  they  told  Pooran  to  put  her  in 
the  cart,  and  walked  back  to  the  house. 

They  found  tea  ready  in  the  drawing-room,  and 
Helen  Treveryan  ready  to  dispense  it.  She  had  looked 
beautiful  before,  but  to  Guy's  eyes,  and  to  Dale's,  she 
looked  still  better  now.  She  generally  rode  with  her 
father  in  the  evening,  and  she  had  dressed  for  her  ride 
before  coming  out.  Her  habit  was  light  gray,  in  defer- 
ence to  the  climate ;  but  it  fitted  her  like  a  glove,  and 
showed  off  to  perfection  the  straight  well-made  figure. 
In  those   days   women   did   not  wear  waistcoats  and 


VIII  SOME  MORNING  CALLS  109 

loose  jackets,  and  ride  with  their  elbows  out.  There 
was  no  dress  in  which  a  graceful  woman  looked  so 
graceful  as  in  her  riding-habit.  Helen  Treveryan  was 
essentially  graceful,  and  the  dress  was  exactly  what 
she  required.  The  shade  of  gray  too  was  well  suited 
to  her  light  brown  hair  and  clear  skin ;  and  with  a 
round  gray  hat  to  match,  and  trim  white  cuffs  and 
collar  fastened  by  the  plainest  of  little  brooches,  her 
whole  get-up  was  thoroughly  workmanlike. 

A  few  minutes  later,  when  Colonel  Treveryan  had 
finished  his  tea  and  changed  his  clothes,  they  all  came 
out  together  on  to  the  front  steps.  The  two  horses 
were  standing  on  the  gravel  below.  They  looked  up 
with  a  low  whinny  as  they  recognised  Helen's  voice,  and 
she  came  down  and  petted  them  both,  and  made  them 
each  happy  with  a  piece  of  sugar.  Guy  watched  hej; 
with  keen  satisfaction,  and  asked  if  he  could  mount 
her.  She  hesitated  for  an  instant,  and  looked  round  for 
Colonel  Treveryan.  '  Thank  you,'  she  said ;  '  my  father 
always  mounts  me  ; '  and  then  fearing  from  the  look 
on  Guy's  face  that  she  had  been  ungracious,  she  added, 
'  But  he  has  deserted  me  to-day.  Would  you  really 
not  mind  helping  me  ? '  As  she  said  it,  Guy  saw  a 
sudden  delicate  flush  come  over  her  cheek  and  neck. 
It  was  still  there  as  the  little  foot  in  its  smart  boot  of 
yellow  Eussia  leather  was  disengaged  from  his  hand, 
and  she  settled  herself  in  the  saddle.  Then  Colonel 
Treveryan  mounted,  and  the  two  rode  away  together, 
followed  by  their  syces  on  foot,  old  Eemus  stepping 


no  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  viii 

off  as  quietly  as  if  he  were  returning  from  a  long 
march,  his  straight-cut  tail  swinging  regularly  at  each 
step,  while  the  Arab  danced  alongside  as  if  his  pasterns 
were  made  of  india-rubber,  his  neck  and  long  swish 
tail  arched,  trying  to  look  as  if  he  were  fifteen  hands 
high,  and  succeeding  fairly  well.  His  rider  sat  him 
perfectly,  her  figure  erect  but  supple,  and  her  hands  in 
her  lap. 

When  the  boys  had  got  into  their  dog-cart  and 
given  the  mare  her  head,  there  was  a  moment's  pause, 
and  then  Guy  said, '  By  Jove,  Chimp,  what  a  jolly  girl ! 
and  as  handsome  as  paint.'  And  Chimp  answered, 
'  Stunning ;  and  about  as  nice  as  they  make  'em  in 
these  parts.'  And  they  drove  back,  enlarging  upon 
the  subject  with  all  the  poetical  freedom  which 
characterises  the  languasre  of  the  British  subaltern. 


CHAPTEE    IX 

AN   INDIAN    COLD    WEATHEK 

You  cannot  talk  of  winter  in  the  plains  of  India. 
There  is  something  dark  and  cold  in  the  very  sound 
of  the  word ;  and  you  cannot  use  it  when  week  after 
week  the  sky  over  your  head  is  a  cloudless  blue,  and 
the  flowers  are  in  blossom.  It  is  more  like  spring, 
and  yet  it  is  not  spring.  Englishmen  in  India  call  it 
simply  the  'cold  weather.' 

The  cold  weather  of  1876-77  had  one  distinctive 
feature.  Early  in  the  year  Lord  Lytton,  Disraeli's 
Viceroy,  had  succeeded  Lord  Northbrook,  and  an  active 
policy  was  in  favour  with  the  new  Government. 
Before  the  rainy  season  came  to  an  end  and  the  sky 
cleared,  it  was  known  that  there  would  soon  be  a 
grand  gathering  at  Delhi,  the  old  capital  of  the 
Moguls,  and  that  the  Queen  would  be  proclaimed 
Empress  of  India.  All  over  the  country  great  prepara- 
tions began  to  be  made  for  the  ceremony. 

Moreover,  rumours  began  to  circulate  as  to  the 
possibility  of  stirring  events  beyond  the  north-west 
frontier.     It  was  said  that  Lord  Lytton  had  come  out 


112  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

determined  to  bring  the  '  Central  Asian  question '  to  a 
head.  Enssian  aggression  was  to  be  faced  in  Afghan- 
istan as  well  as  in  Turkey.  The  old  policy  of  inaction 
was  to  be  abandoned,  and  our  relations  with  the  Amir 
were  to  be  put  upon  a  proper  footing.  Those  who 
could  understand  the  signs  of  the  times  foresaw 
trouble ;  and  the  minds  of  men  in  India,  Europeans 
and  natives  alike,  were  filled  with  a  sense  of  coming 
excitement. 

Nevertheless,  in  a  quiet  place  like  Syntia  things 
went  on  very  much  as  usual.  The  Thirtieth  Lancers 
were  not  to  form  part  of  the  army  which  the  Viceroy 
proposed  to  assemble  at  Delhi ;  and  though  there  was 
to  be  a  durhar  on  the  1st  of  January,  the  younger 
members  of  the  community  were  not  greatly  concerned 
in  these  matters.  To  Guy  Langley  and  Dale  they 
promised  a  little  more  amusement,  and  this  was  all. 

The  cold  weather  being  the  drill  season  in  India 
the  Thirtieth  had  plenty  of  work.  Colonel  Aylmer 
was  not  a  man  to  let  them  rust.  The  mornings  were 
spent  in  parades  or  inspections,  and  no  small  portion 
of  the  rest  of  the  day  was  also  filled  up.  It  is  a 
mistake  to  suppose  that  a  soldier  in  India  has  little 
or  nothing  to  do.  During  the  long  summer  months, 
no  doubt,  he  has  much  time  on  his  hands,  but  even 
then  there  is  work  to  be  done ;  and  from  the  middle 
of  October  to  the  middle  of  April  the  military  machine 
is  in  full  swing.  Still  after  all  there  is,  as  there 
should  be,  a  considerable  margin  of  leisure  and  pleasure 


IX  AN  INDIAN  COLD  WEATHER  113 

in  a  soldier's  life.  You  pay  him  next  to  nothing,  and 
you  expect  him  to  die  for  you  whenever  called  upon  ; 
it  is  only  reasonable  that  he  should  have  some  com- 
pensations. 

Colonel  Aylmer  was  always  ready  to  give  his 
officers  leave  within  reasonable  limits,  and  he  liked 
them  to  be  sportsmen.  Many  a  bright  cloudless  day 
Guy  and  Dale  spent  walking  over  the  wet  rice-fields, 
or  wading  through  the  jheels,  in  that  most  fascinating 
of  occupations,  snipe -shooting.  They  caught  the' 
knack  before  long,  particularly  Dale,  who  was  the 
steadier  shot  of  the  two ;  and  in  the  evening,  when 
they  had  changed  their  wet  clothes  under  a  spreading 
2oeepul  tree,  and  were  in  the  cart  again  with  the  mare 
stepping  out  for  home,  they  usually  carried  with  them, 
for  distribution  among  their  friends,  a  goodly  number 
of  birds.  Occasionally  a  bag  of  twenty  or  thirty 
couple  of  snipe  was  increased  towards  sunset  by  a 
dozen  wild  duck,  shot  at  some  favourite  piece  of  water 
round  which  they  would  come  wheeling  again  and 
again  before  giving  up  all  hope  of  settling.  All  this 
means  chills  and  fever  at  times ;  but  the  boys  were 
young. 

Sometimes  they  drove  away  in  the  early  morning, 
after  a  hasty  breakfast,  so  as  to  arrive  by  daybreak  on 
the  edge  of  the  grain-fields,  where  the  antelope  came 
from  the  great  grass  plains  to  feed  on  the  growing 
crops.  Often  enough  this  ended  in  disappointment. 
A  watchful  doe  gave  the  alarm,  and  there  was  a  hasty 
VOL.  I  I 


114  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

useless  shot  or  two  at  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards,  as 
the  beautiful  beast  they  had  been  stalking  went  away 
in  tremendous  bounds  over  the  long  grass  before 
settling  down  to  his  gallop.  At  times,  however,  they 
were  rewarded.  As  they  lay  in  some  dry  water-hole 
or  thick  patch  of  cover,  the  young  buck  came  quietly 
within  reach  of  them,  unsuspicious  of  evil,  his  brown 
back  and  yellowish  belly  showing  clearly  against  the 
morning  sky;  or  some  veteran  of  many  summers, 
almost  coal-black  above  and  white  below,  his  long 
slender  spiral  horns  lying  along  his  back,  gradually 
approached  them,  stalking  slowly  forward  alone,  or 
playing  with  his  brown  does.  Then  there  was  a 
sudden  report  from  Guy's  rifle,  or  the  little  "360 
express,  with  a  bullet  like  a  bit  of  pencil,  which  Dale 
used  for  buck-shooting ;  and  as  the  smoke  cleared 
away,  they  saw  the  does  scattering  through  the  grass, 
and  a  dark  shape  on  the  ground  struggling  vainly  to 
get  up ;  and  the  native  shikaris  ran  in  and  cut  the 
poor  beast's  throat,  to  make  it  lawful  food — lialdl. 

Then  the  pig-sticking ;  the  drive  out  in  the  evening 
to  a  camp  under  the  trees;  and  the  merry  camp 
dinner;  and  the  long  sweet  sleep  in  an  airy  tent; 
and  the  mountain  in  the  morning  light ;  and  the  wait 
at  the  edge  of  the  jungle,  spear  in  hand,  while  the 
sound  of  the  beat  came  nearer  and  nearer ;  and  the 
sudden  sight  of  the  great  gray  boar,  galloping  out  de- 
fiantly, straight  before  him ;  and  the  mad  pursuit  over 
broken  ground,  and  the  fierce  swerve  and  charge,  and 


IX  AN  INDIAN  COLD  WEATHER  115 

the  thrill  of  the  spear  as  the  point  went  home,  and  the 
long  savage  fight,  and  the  dogged,  pitiful,  gallant  death. 
Lee  managed  the  pig-sticking.  He  knew  the  country 
thoroughly,  he  was  always  well  mounted,  and  he 
rode  as  if  he  had  no  neck.  He  soon  taught  Guy  and 
Dale  to  understand  the  game ;  and  such  a  game. 
There  is  no  sport  on  earth,  not  one,  like  a  fight  with  a 
fighting  boar. 

Apart  from  sport,  there  was  always  something  to 
do  in  the  cool  clear  evenings.  Polo  had  not  then 
been  worked  out  to  a  science,  but  it  already  had  taken 
strong  root  in  India,  and  directly  the  Thirtieth  had  got 
some  ponies  together  they  began  playing  twice  a  week. 
Most  of  the  Civil  officers  were  away  in  camp,  but  all 
the  ladies  used  to  assemble  to  watch  the  game ;  and  it 
was  very  bright  and  sociable.  At  first  the  Thirtieth 
played  extremely  badly,  and  did  their  best  to  kill 
themselves  and  each  other,  but  they  improved  fast, 
which  was  more  than  the  ground  did.  A  few  weeks 
after  the  rains  ceased  it  was  as  hard  as  iron ;  and  the 
clatter  of  the  ponies'  hoofs  sounded  as  if  they  were 
galloping  on  pavement.  A  fall  then  was  no  joke  ;  but 
when  one  is  young  nothing  matters. 

When  there  was  no  polo,  there  was  tennis  and 
Badminton  at  the  Colonel's,  or  the  Commissioner's,  if 
the  Commissioner  was  in  the  Station ;  or  a  '  lady's 
evening'  at  the  racket-court  among  the  mango  trees. 
There  was  a  very  fair  racket-court  at  Syntia.  It  had 
been  built  many  years  before  by  some  sporting  civilian 


ii6  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

who  lived  in  the  days  when  Indian  Civil  Servants 
remained  in  one  place  half  their  lives,  and  were  rich 
enough  to  do  these  things. 

Then  there  was  always  the  Club.  This  was  a  great 
institution  at  Syntia.  The  Club  consisted  of  a  small 
thatched  house  containing  a  billiard-room,  a  card- 
room,  and  a  reading-room,  where  one  could  see  the 
papers  and  magazines.  Close  to  the  house  were  some 
good  tennis-courts,  while  the  racket-court  and  swimming- 
bath  were  not  far  off.  Every  afternoon  almost  you 
could  get  a  rubber  after  lunch  if  so  disposed ;  and  in 
the  evening  about  five  o'clock,  if  there  was  nothing 
else  to  be  done,  a  number  of  people  came  round,  riding 
or  driving,  to  play  or  look  on  at  the  tennis.  After 
the  play  was  over  they  sat  looking  out  over  the  great 
river  which  flowed  close  by  under  the  steep  sandy 
bank,  until  the  quick  night  came  down  upon  them  and 
the  dew  began  to  fall.  Then  there  was  a  general 
lighting  of  carriage  lamps,  and  many  friendly  good- 
nights,  and  they  scattered  away  in  the  darkness,  as 
often  as  not  to  meet  again  in  batches  at  various 
hospitable  dinner -tables.  The  wine  was  generally 
good ;  and  if  the  conversation  was  not  highly  intel- 
lectual, it  was  cheery  and  free  from  dulness.  Every  one 
knew  every  one  else  pretty  well,  and  no  one  was  shy 
or  stiff. 

Occasionally  the  afternoon  was  varied  by  a  riding 
party  on  the  racecourse,  a  fine  open  plain  with  a  few 
palm  trees  in  the  centre,  where  you  could  have  a  two- 


IX  AN  INDIAN  COLD  WEATHER  117 

mile  gallop  ;  or  there  was  an  evening  picnic.  All 
who  cared  to  go  met  and  rode  out  together  along  the 
soft  country  roads,  until  they  came  upon  the  little 
encampment  where  the  native  servants  awaited  them. 
Perhaps  the  spot  chosen  was  some  old  ruin  in  the 
forest,  where  the  trees  rose  through  the  shattered 
masonry  of  a  neglected  temple,  or  overhung  the  stone 
steps  of  a  tank  which  some  forgotten  great  man  had 
made,  and  named  with  his  name.  The  darkness  was 
generally  beginning  to  gather  before  the  party  set  out 
on  their  homeward  ride,  and  the  stars  were  bright 
before  they  got  back. 

Then  there  was  a  small  fortnightly  dance  at  the 
mess -house,  which  had  a  very  good  floor.  Sometimes, 
when  no  one  came  over  from  Baner,  there  was  rather 
a  dearth  of  ladies ;  but  the  few  ladies  who  were  ^ere 
did  not  seem  to  mind.  Once  there  was  a  bio;  ball 
at  Baner  to  which  all  Syntia  went  off  together  by 
train. 

Altogether  the  weeks  passed  rapidly  and  brightly 
enough,  and  before  Christmas  came  round  Guy  Langiey 
was  surprised  to  find  how  contented  he  was  with  his 
Indian  life.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  country  was 
delightful,  and  that  people  who  could  see  in  it  nothing 
but  weariness  and  vexation  of  spirit  must  be  strangely 
constituted.  He  was  no  doubt  perfectly  right;  but 
he  had  seen  Indian  life  under  favourable  conditions, 
and  had  not  seen  much  of  it.  Moreover,  he  had  seen 
Helen   Treveryan.      Though  as  yet  he  did  not  fully 


ii8  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

recognise  the  fact,  that  was  really  the  main  cause  of 
his  contentment.  No  doubt  he  owed  it  in  part  to  his 
good-tempered  disposition,  and  to  the  artistic  sense 
which  made  him  appreciate  the  picturesque  side  of 
his  new  life.  His  books  too  helped  him.  He  was  a 
desultory  reader,  but  he  read  largely,  and  a  man  who 
reads  cannot  be  dull.  But  at  the  bottom  of  it  all  was 
Helen  Treveryan. 

It  was  no  wonder ;  indeed,  the  wonder  would  have 
been  if  Guy  had  failed  to  be  attracted  by  her.  Always 
quick  to  appreciate  beauty,  he  could  not  help  admiring 
Helen's  sweet  face ;  and  to  his  rather  fastidious  taste 
there  was  something  even  more  pleasing  in  the  grace- 
fulness of  her  movements  and  the  look  of  refinement 
and  breeding  which  is  above  all  mere  beauty  of  colour 
or  shape.  Moreover,  Guy  was  a  gentleman,  and  could 
recognise  and  appreciate  the  straightness  and  purity 
which  made  her  so  frank  in  her  manners. 

They  were  thrown  constantly  together  in  the  easy 
familiar  intercourse  of  a  small  Indian  Station,  where 
acquaintance  naturally  ripens  fast.  They  met  almost 
daily,  and  met  after  a  few  days  on  a  footing  of  un- 
affected friendliness.  Helen  Treveryan  was  fond  of 
riding,  and  Guy  was  very  often  by  her  side  as  the 
party  cantered  round  the  racecourse,  or  when  they 
rode  slowly  back  from  their  picnics  through  the  early 
moonlight.  She  danced  well,  and  Guy  always  got  a 
couple  of  waltzes  with  her  in  the  evenings  at  the 
mess-house.     She  played  tennis,  gracefully,  if  not  very 


IX  AN  INDIAN  COLD  WEATHER  119 

strongly ;  and  they  often  found  themselves  paired  off 
together  on  the  smooth  cement  courts  at  the  Club. 
Even  in  his  reading  Guy  found  Helen  a  companion. 
She  had  a  taste  for  poetry  as  well  as  for  music,  which 
is  not  a  very  common  combination ;  and  Guy  was 
surprised  to  hear  her  speaking  naturally  and  easily  of 
books  which  not  one  woman  in  six  knows  anything 
about.  She  cared  more  for  Longfellow  and  Scott  than 
for  Shelley  or  Dickens ;  but  though  he  did  not  agree 
with  her,  he  thought  none  the  less  of  her  for  that. 
Her  want  of  affectation  too  was  very  delightful.  She 
enjoyed  life  heartily,  and  was  full  of  quiet  fun.  Yet 
she  could  be  very  dignified  on  occasion.  Once  Den- 
ham  had  presumed  on  her  pleasant  manner,  and  had 
said  something  to  her  which  he  ought  not  to  have 
said  to  any  girl.  She  did  not  understand  him^but 
she  knew  instinctively  that  he  meant  harm,  and  she 
treated  him  at  the  time  and  afterwards  with  a  quiet 
coldness  which  effectually  prevented  any  repetition  of 
the  offence.  Guy  did  not  know  the  cause,  but  he 
noticed  and  was  pleased  at  her  evident  avoidance  of 
his  enemy. 

On  Sundays  Guy  was  generally  free  to  do  as  he 
liked ;  and  he  gradually  got  into  the  way  of  spending 
his  day  in  the  Civil  Lines  instead  of  attending  Mrs. 
Dangerfield's  rather  wild  lunch  parties.  He  used  to 
ride  or  drive  over  in  time  for  the  morning  service. 
He  had  not  till  then  been  by  any  means  a  regular 
churchgoer,    and    he    did    not    perhaps    attend    very 


I20  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

closely  now ;  but  he  liked  to  sit  in  the  pretty  little 
half-empty  church,  with  the  soft  air  coming  through 
the  open  windows ;  to  hear  at  intervals  the  singing  of 
the  small  but  carefully  trained  choir;  and  to  listen 
for  the  clear  sweet  voice,  which  came  to  him  through 
the  rest,  until  sometimes  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  all 
others  had  faded  away,  and  Helen  was  singing  alone. 
The  Padre's  sermons  w^ere  short,  and  good  enough ;  but 
by  that  time  Guy  was  getting  impatient,  and  they 
used  to  seem  to  him  very  uninteresting.  Directly 
they  were  over  he  was  out  under  the  porch,  answering 
friendly  greetings  and  looking  for  the  beautiful  face, 
which  he  knew  would  come  out  of  the  little  stone 
doorway  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase  when  the  last  notes 
of  the  voluntary  had  ceased. 

Then,  if  Colonel  Treveryan  was  in  Syntia,  which 
he  often  managed  to  be  on  Sundays,  Guy  would  receive 
and  accept  the  invitation  to  lunch,  which  was  always 
ready  as  a  matter  of  course  for  any  one  who  had  come 
over  from  cantonments.  Occasionally,  though  not 
often,  he  was  the  only  guest ;  and  though  Helen  left 
the  gentlemen  to  themselves  after  lunch  he  was  able 
in  these  Sunday  visits  to  see  a  great  deal  of  her. 
He  saw  nothing  that  was  not  thoroughly  pure  and 
ladylike. 

It  was  all  very  pleasant,  and  very  certain  to  end 
in  one  way ;  and  before  long  a  few  quick  eyes  in 
Syntia  had  begun  to  perceive  what  was  coming. 

Mrs.  Stewart  was  the  first  to  suspect  that  Guy  was 


IX  AN  INDIAN  COLD  WEATHER  121 

seriously  attracted.  Her  apprehension  was  quickened 
by  something  of  the  nature  of  jealousy,  for  she  had 
been  accustomed  to  regard  the  intellectual  side  of  him 
as  her  peculiar  property.  She  was  surprised  and  rather 
annoyed  to  hear  him  discussing  a  passage  of  In 
Memoriam  with  Helen  Treveryan,  and  still  more  so 
afterwards  to  find  that  a  somewhat  sarcastic  remark 
on  the  subject  was  not  at  all  well  received.  Something 
she  said  about  this  opened  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Dangerfield 
and  Mrs.  Aylmer.  Mrs.  Dangerfield,  in  her  reckless 
marauding  way,  at  once  attacked  Guy,  and  accused  him 
of  deserting  old  friends  for  new.  He  repelled  the 
charge  warmly,  but  he  failed  to  remove  her  doubts. 
He  failed  equally  with  Mrs.  Aylmer.  She  was  attracted 
by  Helen ;  and  did  not  like  the  idea  of  Guy  being  too 
constantly  with  her  if,  as  was  probable,  he  '  meant 
nothing.'  She  had  an  interest  in  him  as  well.  A  few 
days  after  Mrs.  Dangerfield  had  attacked  him,  she  got 
an  opening.  Guy  had  come  to  lunch,  rather  early,  and 
was  sitting  in  the  drawing-room  talking  to  her.  He 
said  something  about  the  Treveryans,  and  she  took  up 
the  subject  quite  naturally.  '  What  a  dear  girl  Miss 
Treveryan  is,'  she  said ;  '  I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  a 
girl  I  took  such  a  fancy  to.' 

Guy's  eyes  brightened.  '  Yes ;  isn't  she  awfully 
nice  ? '  he  answered  in  the  ridiculous  language  of  the 
day.  '  It  isn't  only  that  she  is  pretty,  but  she  does 
everything  so  well.  She  is  the  best  dancer  I  ever 
knew,  though  they  can  all  dance  out  here ;   and  she 


122  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

rides  like  an  angel,  and  she  is  such  a  lady  all 
over/ 

Mrs.  Aylmer  smiled  at  his  enthusiasm.  '  Take  care, 
Mr.  Langley,'  she  said.  '  I  am  afraid  this  is  getting 
serious.' 

Guy  coloured.  '  Oh  no,  there  is  nothing  of  that  sort. 
I  have  never  said  a  word  to  her  that  I  might  not  have 
said  to  any  one.' 

Mrs.  Aylmer  dropped  the  subject.  What  Guy 
said  was  quite  true.  They  had  met  and  enjoyed 
being  together,  with  a  young  honest  pleasure,  but 
neither  of  them  had  thought  of  anything  more. 
Nevertheless,  they  were  on  the  old  road,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  Guy  began  to  confess  to  himself  that 
Helen  Treveryan's  presence  had  become  an  intense 
pleasure  to  him.  If  she  failed  to  appear  any  evening 
when  he  had  expected  to  see  her,  he  felt  a  disappoint- 
ment which  was  sufficient  to  spoil  everything.  If  she 
seemed  inattentive  to  anything  he  said,  or  too  much 
interested  by  the  affairs  of  others,  particularly  if  she 
got  into  close  conversation  with  Lord  Enleigh,  whose 
soldierly  enthusiasm  she  liked,  he  felt  hurt  and  depressed. 
Then  a  few  gentle  words  from  her  dissipated  his  sore- 
ness like  a  cloud. 

Gradually  the  magic  of  her  presence  grew  upon  him 
and  overcame  his  senses,  until  the  sight  of  her  face,  and 
the  touch  of  her  cool  white  hand,  became  his  one  delight 
and  longing.  He  could  not  look  at  her  without  feeling 
that  his  eyes  betrayed  him ;  and  if  he  spoke  to  her,  it 


IX  AN  INDIAN  COLD  WEATHER  123 

seemed  to  him  that  he  could  no  longer  trust  his  voice. 
The  very  brush  of  her  dainty  dress  made  his  heart  beat. 

Others  were  not  watching  him  so  closely  as  he 
imagined.  They  had  their  own  affairs  to  think  about, 
and  if  he  had  kept  quiet  his  feelings  might  perhaps  have 
been  unnoticed  by  the  bulk  of  his  neighbours ;  but  he 
tried  to  conceal  them  by  ostentatiously  professing  his 
admiration  for  Helen  Treveryan's  beauty  and  goodness. 
This  was  powerless  to  deceive  those  who  had  gone 
through  the  fever,  and  it  attracted  the  attention  of  those 
who  had  thought  nothing  about  the  matter  before. 
People  began  to  see  and  to  talk. 

Helen  Treveryan  saw  nothing.  She  was  enjoying 
herself  thoroughly,  and  she  liked  Guy  Langley  better 
than  any  of  the  other  young  men,  who  all  joined 
in  making  things  pleasant  for  her ;  but  he  had  never 
spoken  to  her  of  love,  and  she  had  never  thought  of  it. 
As  yet  she  was  quite  free  and  unembarrassed  in  her 
behaviour  towards  him. 

He  felt  this,  and  was  nettled  by  it,  and  as  the  weeks 
went  by,  there  came  over  him  an  uncontrollable  longing 
to  stir  her  heart  and  make  her  care  for  him  before  all. 
He  did  not  allow  himself  to  follow  out  his  thoughts  to 
their  legitimate  end.  Marriage  was  a  thing  that  hardly 
ever  crossed  his  mind.  If  any  one  had  suggested  it  to 
him,  he  would  have  laughed  at  the  idea.  But  he  longed 
to  feel  that  Helen  Treveryan  was  not  indifferent  to  him. 
Whether  he  wanted  her  altogether  for  life  he  did  not 
stop  to  inquire,  but  he  wanted  her  to  love  him  then. 


124  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  ix 

The  rest  might  take  care  of  itself.  He  was  not  dishonour- 
able. He  would  have  repelled  with  unfeigned  horror  the 
idea  of  doing  her  wrong ;  and  he  did  not  deliberately  in- 
tend to  make  love  to  her  and  desert  her.  He  was  simply 
young  and  thoughtless.  The  desire  of  the  moment 
excluded  from  his  sight  all  other  considerations,  and 
the  desire  of  the  moment  was  to  enjoy  Helen  Treveryan's 
presence,  and  to  know  that  she  preferred  him  to  all 
others. 

Meanwhile  Colonel  Treveryan,  who  was  generally 
absent  in  camp,  and  was  of  a  straightforward  simple 
nature,  suspected  nothing.  Mrs.  Hunter,  who,  in  the 
absence  of  her  husband,  also  in  camp  in  his  district, 
had  come  over  to  stay  with  Helen,  was  perhaps  not 
equally  blind ;  but  Helen  volunteered  no  confidences, 
and  seemed  quite  heartwhole. 

Hugh  Dale  did  not  fail  to  see  that  Guy's  inclination 
for  sport  was  lessening,  and  that  his  attendance  on  the 
ladies  was  becoming  more  and  more  regular  ;  but  Guy's 
temper  did  not  seem  to  have  improved,  and  Dale 
found  it  better  not  to  make  any  remarks  on  the  subject. 
Being  thoroughly  good-natured  and  loyal,  he  accepted 
the  position  and  said  little  about  it  to  others. 


CHAPTEE    X 

CHRISTMAS    WEEK 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  when  the  Civil  population 
of  Syntia  reassembled  for  the  festivities  of  Christmas 
week. 

Colonel  Treveryan  and  his  officers  all  came  in  from 
camp,  and  the  preparations  for  the  ceremony  of  the 
1st  of  January  were  rapidly  pushed  on.  A  great 
programme  had  been  arranged.  Colonel  Treveryan 
was  to  give  a  dance  at  the  Club,  and  there  were  to  be 
two  mornings  sky -racing;  and  Syntia  had  pluckily 
challenged  Baner  to  play  them  at  polo,  at  rackets, 
at  cricket,  and  tennis ;  and  the  regiment  was  to  give 
a  dance  too ;  and  then  there  was  to  be  the  durhar,  and 
after  it,  in  the  evening,  a  ball  given  by  a  Eaja ;  and 
throughout  the  week  every  one  was  to  keep  open  house, 
and  put  up  as  many  friends  from  other  stations  as 
could  be  induced  to  come ;  and  altogether  Syntia  meant 
to  have  a  thoroughly  good  time.  And  Syntia  certainly 
did  have  as  good  a  time  as  an  Indian  '  mofussil  station  ' 
can  manage  to  have. 

Christmas  Day  that  year  fell  on  a  Monday.    During 


126  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

the  Saturday  and  Sunday  the  visitors  came  pouring  in 
from  all  sides,  by  road  and  by  rail.  The  houses  were 
soon  full,  but  those  who  could  not  find  room  in  the 
houses  were  put  under  canvas.  On  the  grass  behind 
Colonel  Treveryan's  house  there  was  a  considerable 
camp ;  the  white  tents,  all  of  one  size  and  pattern, 
beautifully  pitched  in  two  level  rows,  and  comfortably 
furnished.  The  other  houses  too  had  their  gardens 
full  of  them.  At  every  turn  one  saw  the  white  points 
among  the  heavy  green  of  the  mango  trees  and  palms, 
or  glittering  against  the  blue  sky.  Even  the  Andersons 
put  up  some  unlucky  visitors  who  had  no  particular 
friends;  and  the  Pink  'un  dispensed  a  royal  hospitality 
to  a  party  of  very  noisy  young  men  who  had  been 
billeted  upon  him  by  Mrs.  Hunter. 

On  Christmas  morning  the  little  church  was  full  to 
overflowing.  It  all  seemed  very  English.  Helen 
Treveryan's  white  hands  had  been  busy  there  as  weU 
as  in  her  father's  house,  and  she  had  found  ready  help 
from  others.  Pulpit  and  lectern  and  pillar  and  rail 
were  wreathed  with  flowers  and  evergreens ;  and 
though  the  sky  was  blue  outside,  and  the  sun  was 
shining  brightly,  many  of  the  English  men  and  women 
who  gathered  there  that  morning  forgot  for  a  time,  as 
they  listened  to  the  Christmas  service,  that  they  were 
exiles,  thousands  of  miles  from  '  home.'  Their  hearts 
were  stirred  by  the  familiar  words.  As  the  service 
went  on,  they  joined  in  the  singing  until  the  whole 
building  was  filled  by  the  unwonted  volume  of  sound. 


X  CHRISTMAS  WEEK  127 

and  the  little  Padre's  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure  ;  and 
through  it  all  rose  sweet  and  clear  and  true,  like  the 
song  of  a  bird,  the  voice  of  a  happy  girl. 

She  and  her  father  did  their  best  to  make  it  a 
'  merry  Christmas '  to  all  about  them.  There  were  no 
English  poor  in  Syntia,  but  there  were  a  few  people  of 
mixed  blood  to  whom  Colonel  Treveryan's  liberality 
was  welcome ;  and  the  native  servants  were  given  a 
feast  in  honour  of  the  great  day ;  and  they  were  also 
allowed  to  carry  off  the  innumerable  trays  of  fruit  and 
sweetmeats  which  the  native  gentlemen  of  the  district 
had  sent  to  the  Commissioner  Sahib.  They  wrangled 
over  the  division  of  the  spoil,  and  some  of  them  ate 
too  many  good  things  and  suffered  for  it,  but  they 
seemed  to  be  happy. 

Meanwhile  the  white  Sahibs  amused  themselves 
after  their  kind.  There  was  a  sumptuous  lunch  in 
almost  every  house ;  they  spent  the  afternoon  in 
playing  tennis,  in  riding,  in  boating  on  the  river,  and 
in  hunting  up  old  acquaintances ;  and  then  they  all 
had  merry  Christmas  dinners  and  rejoiced  over  blazing 
mince-pies  and  plum-puddings,  and  were  more  English 
than  in  England,  while  the  champagne  flowed  like  water. 

When  the  ladies  broke  up,  some  of  the  men  went 
off  to  the  Club  for  the  race  lotteries.  There  was  some 
quarrelling  there  between  a  sporting  planter  and  a 
clean-shaved,  square-jawed  racing-man  who  was  staying 
with  Denham ;  but  this  was  stopped  before  much  harm 
was  done.     Afterwards  some  of  the  Pink  'un's  guests 


128  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

sat  up  drinking  whisky  and  soda  and  singing  songs, 
which  gradually  grew  stronger  until  they  made  the 
poor  little  fellow  hot  all  over.  His  mind  was  sorely 
divided  between  the  obligation  to  be  polite  to  his 
guests  and  the  duty  of  protesting  against  their  language. 
He  solved  the  difficulty  by  pleading  hard  work  next 
day,  and  asking  leave  to  go  to  bed.  Then  he  said  his 
prayers  humbly,  kneeling  by  his  bedside  with  his  hands 
over  his  ears,  trying  to  shut  out  the  sound  of  a  specially 
horrid  chorus,  and  asking  forgiveness  if  he  had  done 
wTong  in  not  speaking  out. 

As  to  the  racing  next  day,  perhaps  the  less  said 
the  better.  The  British  subaltern,  and  generally  the 
Englishman  in  India,  is  not  at  his  best  when  he  is 
pony -racing;  and  the  meeting  was  not  altogether  a 
success.  There  was  some  bad  language  used,  and 
some  very  inferior  running.  Dale  unexpectedly  pulled 
off  a  race  on  a  new  purchase  of  his,  which  was  about 
the  only  thing  Helen  Treveryan  enjoyed.  Sitting  on 
the  carpeted  steps  of  an  earthen  bank,  watching  the 
performances  of  a  lot  of  second-rate  ponies,  generally 
badly  matched  and  not  too  well  ridden,  is  an  amuse- 
ment of  which  it  is  possible  to  have  enough. 

In  the  evening  there  was  the  Commissioner's  dance 
at  the  Club.  Helen  and  some  of  her  father's  guests 
had  worked  hard  to  prepare  for  this  ;  and  the  place 
was  prettily  got  up,  and  the  floor  good.  The  Thirtieth 
came  over  in  force  from  cantonments,  and  every  one 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  dance  heartily. 


X  CHRISTMAS  WEEK  129 

On  the  Wednesday  there  were  the  rackets  and 
lawn-tennis  matches.  Dale  and  Harrison  of  the  Civil 
Service,  also  a  Harrow  boy  who  belonged  to  one  of 
Colonel  Treveryan's  districts,  represented  Syntia  at 
rackets.  Dale  was  to  play  tennis  in  the  afternoon, 
but  he  scoffed  at  the  idea  that  it  would  be  too  much 
for  him.  '  Rot ! '  he  said  contemptuously.  '  I'm  not 
quite  so  soft  as  all  that.  I  can  play  a  set  or  two  of 
pat-ball  in  the  evening  if  we  do  have  a  close  game.' 

There  was  a  large  gathering  in  the  gallery  after 
breakfast,  and  they  saw  a  first-rate  fight.  Dale  and 
Harrison  pulled  off  the  doubles  at  last  after  a  very 
close  finish;  but  Dale  was  beaten  in  the  single  match  by 
Spencer  of  the  artillery,  a  tall,  well-built  man  with  a 
long  reach,  who  never  seemed  to  exert  himself  and  was 
always  at  the  right  place,  and  had  the  most  detestable 
service. 

At  tennis  in  the  evening  it  was  worse.  There  was 
to  be  a  double  for  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  a  single 
for  men  only.  Dale  and  Mrs.  Lee  represented  Syntia. 
Mrs.  Lee  got  excited  and  broke  into  voluble  Irish,  and 
made  every  one  laugh,  and  then  blushed  furiously  and 
looked  very  pretty.  In  the  end  they  lost,  the  lady  on  the 
other  side  being  too  strong  for  Mrs.  Lee.  When  it  came 
to  the  singles  a  clumsy-looking  man  in  a  woollen  jersey, 
Greenfield  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Tenth,  came  forth 
to  do  battle  for  Baner.  He  could  play  no  other  game, 
and  made  tennis  the  business  of  his  life.  His  style  was 
so  ugly  and  his  returns  so  slow  that  Syntia  were  very 
VOL.  I  K 


130  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

confident.  Nevertheless  he  won,  after  a  long  fight, 
Dale's  quickness  and  hard  wrist-play  being  fairly  over- 
matched at  last  by  the  other  man's  unfailing  certainty 
to  get  a  ball  up  somehow,  and  his  careful  placing.  Pos- 
sibly Dale  was  a  little  tired  too,  in  spite  of  his  good 
condition,  and  besides,  he  did  not  profess  to  play '  pat- 
ball.' 

So  far  Baner  was  one  event  ahead. 

Next  morning  there  was  some  more  racing,  and  in 
the  afternoon  the  polo-match.  That  was  good  fun. 
The  play  was  not  very  scientific,  but  the  teams  were 
even,  and  throughout  the  result  was  doubtful.  It  was 
two  goals  all  until  the  very  end,  and  the  excitement 
was  tremendous  when  Guy  Langley  got  away  with  the 
ball  about  the  middle  of  the  ground,  and  galloping  and 
hitting  like  one  inspired,  succeeded  within  half  a  minute 
of  time  in  making  another  goal  for  the  Thirtieth. 

It  was  a  sweet  moment  to  him,  and  the  sweetest 
thing  of  all,  as  he  cantered  back  past  the  line  of 
carriages,  was  to  see  Helen's  face  flushed  with  excite- 
ment, and  to  hear  her  bright,  'Well  done,  Mr.  Langley.' 

On  the  Thursday  evening  the  racing  contingent 
departed.  There  remained  the  cricket,  which  would 
now  be  the  deciding  event.  Syntia  rather  fancied 
themselves  at  this.  They  had  expected  to  be  beaten 
at  polo,  but  they  thought  they  could  pull  off  the  cricket- 
match.  They  had  one  exceptionally  good  bowler,  a 
corporal  in  the  Thirtieth,  who  was  very  fast  and  got  on 
a  big  break  at  times.     Two  or  three  of  the  men  could 


X  CHRISTMAS  WEEK  131 

bowl  a  bit  too;  and  so  could  Dale  and  Guy,  and 
Harrison  used  to  be  good  at  lobs.  Then  they  had 
discovered  that  the  little  Pink  'un  had  been  in  the 
Tonbridge  eleven,  and  kept  wicket  rather  well.  They 
had  plenty  of  batting.  The  regimental  doctor,  Evans, 
a  tall  young  fellow  with  sloping  shoulders  and  a  rather 
ugly  private  school  style,  who  went  in  first  with  Dale 
for  the  Thirtieth,  was  almost  certain  to  make  runs ; 
and  there  were  several  others — among  them  a  sporting 
superintendent  of  post-offices,  a  very  hard  hitter  with 
an  extraordinary  eye. 

Dale  had  taken  great  trouble  with  the  ground,  and 
by  dint  of  watering  and  rolling  had  really  managed  to 
get  a  very  respectable  pitch.  He  could  not  get  Guy 
to  practise  as  much  as  he  wished,  but  on  the  whole  he 
was  confident,  and  the  men  were  ready  to  back  them- 
selves at  any  odds. 

There  had  been  a  good  deal  of  chaff  about  the 
match,  and  both  sides  were  now  really  keen  to  win. 
They  began  within  two  hours  of  the  stated  time,  which 
is  rare  in  India ;  and  there  was  a  considerable  gather- 
ing to  watch  the  game  from  the  start.  Syntia  won  the 
toss  and  went  in.  The  men  in  the  field  wore  helmets 
or  pith  hats  or  felt  wideawakes,  which  looked  odd; 
but  the  bowling  was  not  to  be  despised,  and  the  scor- 
ing was  only  moderate.  Dale  and  the  doctor  made  a 
good  stand;  but  after  that  the  wickets  went  down 
rapidly.  The  post-office  man  hit  one  ball  out  of 
the  ground  to  square  leg,  and  was  then  taken  with  a 


132  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

yorker.  Guy,  after  making  three  or  four  runs  very 
prettily,  played  forward  at  a  rather  short-pitched  one, 
and  put  up  an  easy  catch.  The  Pink  'un  stayed  some 
time,  and  was  then  badly  run  out.  The  innings  was 
over  by  lunch- time  for  120. 

After  lunch  Baner  made  almost  the  same  number. 
Their  captain.  Major  Clifford  of  the  One  Hundred  and 
Tenth,  a  Winchester  man,  played  real  cricket.  He  had 
bowled  well  in  the  Syntia  innings,  slow  medium  pace, 
without  much  break,  but  with  a  very  good  length,  and 
a  most  unpleasant  spin.  Now  he  set  a  good  example 
by  going  in  first  and  keeping  his  wicket  up  until  very 
near  the  end  of  the  innings,  which  closed  for  123.  He 
was  well  seconded  by  Spencer,  the  racket-player,  who 
batted  well  for  five-and-twenty.  Guy  Langley  let  him 
off  once  at  cover-point,  but  it  was  a  hard  catch. 

That  night  it  was  the  Thirtieth  dance,  and  there  was 
much  speculation  and  a  little  betting  about  the  cricket- 
match.  Dale  and  Guy  Langley  were  still  very  confident. 
They  thought  they  ought  to  have  done  much  better ;  and 
that  they  would  do  so  the  second  innings.  Dale  drank 
nothing  all  the  evening  except  a  little  whisky  and  soda, 
and  tried  to  induce  Guy  to  follow  his  example.  It  was 
a  very  pleasant  dance,  but  people  were  beginning  to  get 
a  little  tired  now,  and  Colonel  Treveryan's  party  left 
early ;  after  which  Guy  thought  it  stale,  flat,  and  un- 
profitable, and  consoled  himself  by  a  second  supper, 
and  another  glass  or  two  of  champagne. 

The  next  day  cricket  began  at  eleven  o'clock ;  and 


X  CHRISTMAS  WEEK  133 

in  spite  of  the  dance  the  play  was  keen.  Syntia  were  in 
all  the  morning.  Guy  failed  again,  getting  bowled,  to 
his  great  vexation,  just  after  the  Treveryans  had  come 
on  to  the  ground.  But  Dale  played  up  well ;  and  he 
and  the  post-office  man  had  one  very  merry  half-hour, 
during  which  they  hit  the  bowling  all  over  the  ground 
and  made  fifty  runs,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  Thir- 
tieth, who  applauded  wildly.  The  Pink  'un  also  did 
well,  playing  very  steadily  and  making  some  nice  cuts  ; 
and  a  private  of  the  Thirtieth,  who  went  in  last,  after 
lunch,  without  pads  or  gloves,  and  hit  across  at  every 
ball,  knocked  up  twenty  in  half  as  many  minutes. 
Baner  was  left  with  nearly  200  to  make. 

'  They  can't  do  it,  sir,'  Corporal  Humphry  said 
decidedly  to  Dale,  and  Dale  agreed. 

But  they  meant  to  try.  Major  Clifford  Mid 
Spencer  went  in,  and  for.  more  than  an  hour  they  kept 
their  wickets  up,  and  not  only  kept  their  wickets  up 
but  scored  fairly  fast.  They  collared  Humphry  com- 
pletely ;  Clifford  putting  him  away  to  leg  for  threes 
and  fours,  and  Spencer  sending  him  several  times  to 
the  off  boundary  with  a  very  pretty  late  cut.  Dale 
tried  a  number  of  changes,  and  at  last  got  Spencer's 
wicket ;  but  Clifford  remained,  and  though  the  wickets 
began  to  fall  pretty  fast  now  the  score  rose  steadily. 
Dale  put  on  Harrison  with  lobs ;  but  Clifford,  who  was 
still  in  and  thoroughly  set,  hit  him  clean  out  of  the 
ground  three  times  in  one  over.  Guy  went  on  for  a 
couple  of  overs,  but  could  not  get  on  the  spot.     The 


134  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

soldier  change-bowlers  were  freely  punished,  and  the 
telegraph  showed  150,  and  160,  and  170,  and  two 
easy  catches  were  dropped  in  the  long  field.  It  was 
really  getting  very  unpleasant,  and  Dale  began  to  grow 
warm.  At  last  Clifford  stepped  out  to  one  that  he 
ought  to  have  played,  and  the  Pink  'un  put  his  wicket 
down  very  smartly.  Two  more  to  fall  and  twenty 
runs  to  make.  Twelve  of  the  twenty  runs  were  made, 
and  still  there  were  only  eight  wickets  down.  The 
excitement  was  getting  almost  painful.  Then,  amid  a 
scream  of  delight,  Dale,  who  had  put  himself  on  again, 
ran  up  and  got  a  man  off  his  own  bowling — an  almost 
impossible  catch,  with  one  hand,  low  down,  not  ten 
yards  from  the  bat.  Nine  down  and  eight  runs  to 
get;  every  ball  was  watched  now  with  breathless 
interest.  During  the  next  over  three  runs  were  made 
by  a  lucky  snick.     Four  to  tie. 

Dale  had  sent  Guy  out  to  the  boundary  for  a  catch. 
He  was  within  twenty  yards  of  the  Treveryans'  carriage. 
Clifford  and  Spencer  had  walked  round  and  were  stand- 
ing by  it  talking  to  Helen.  As  they  stood,  the  bats- 
man at  the  opposite  end,  a  hard-hitting  artillery 
bombardier,  who  had  made  twenty  runs  and  was 
playing  very  well  and  pluckily,  stepped  out  to  the 
first  ball  of  the  over,  which  was  pitched  up  a  little  too 
far.  He  caught  it,  a  fair  half- volley,  and  the  ball  flew 
away  high  in  the  air  straight  for  the  place  where  Guy 
had  been  put.  Dale,  in  his  excitement,  turned  round 
and  called  out, '  Now  you've  got  him ! '  and  waited  with 


X  CHRISTMAS  WEEK  135 

a  confident  anxiety  for  the  result.  Guy  was  a  pretty 
safe  catch  as  a  rule,  and  as  the  ball  rose  he  rejoiced 
at  his  chance ;  but  he  had  too  much  time  to  think 
about  it.  As  it  hung  in  the  air,  he  remembered  that 
he  had  dropped  one  the  day  before,  and  a  horrid 
doubt  suddenly  came  to  him  that  he  might  drop  this 
too.  Who  does  not  know  the  miserable  suspense  of  a 
moment  like  that,  when  you  are  waiting  for  a  ball  to 
come  down  ?  How  slowly  it  seems  to  move  at  first, 
and  with  what  a  diabolical  swiftness  it  gets  through 
the  last  twenty  feet.  Guy  stood  watching  it  steadily. 
There  was  no  judging  required.  It  was  hit  right  into 
his  hands,  and  he  scarcely  had  to  move  a  yard.  Would 
it  never  come  ? 

He  was  hot  with  rage  and  disgust  as  he  heard  the 
involuntary  '  Oh '  of  disappointment  all  round  h^m, 
followed  by  an  unseemly  shout  on  the  part  of  the 
enemy.  '  Very  sorry.  Chimp,'  he  called  out  rather 
sullenly  as  he  threw  the  ball  up,  and  cursed  his  luck. 
Only  two  to  tie  now.  The  next  ball  was  a  good  one, 
and  the  third  was  better.  It  grazed  the  bombardier's 
leg  stump  close  by  the  bail,  which  shivered  and  settled 
again.  Then  the  bombardier  stepped  out  once  more, 
and  drove  Dale  to  the  boundary,  all  along  the  ground, 
and  the  match  was  over. 

Poor  Guy  !  It  really  was  cruelly  hard  lines.  To 
miss  an  easy  catch  like  that  and  lose  the  match  by  it, 
and  right  ^in  front  of  Helen's  eyes.  He  walked  back 
to  the  pavilion-tent  feeling  sore  and  ashamed  of  him- 


136  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

self.  He  little  knew  how  her  woman's  heart  went  out 
to  him  in  the  humiliation  of  the  moment.  As  the 
catch  fell,  Clifford  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  delight, 
'  Muckered  it,  by  Jove !  and  right  into  his  hands.' 
Then  he  went  on :  '  I  wonder  what  year  Langley  was 
in  the  Eton  eleven.  They  must  have  been  weak,  I 
expect.     He  doesn't  seem  to  be  much  good.' 

Helen's  big  eyes  flashed.  She  was  very  young 
still.  '  Mr.  Dale  said  it  was  a  very  strong  eleven,'  she 
said.  '  He  told  me  they  beat  Harrow  that  year ;  and 
I  think  they  beat  Winchester  in  one  innings.'  Clifford 
looked  up  in  surprise  and  laughed.  '  That  is  one  for 
me.  I  am  sorry  I  spoke.'  She  caught  his  look,  and 
turned  the  conversation  rapidly.  A  minute  later  the 
match  ended.  Soon  afterwards  her  father  joined  her, 
and  Guy  came  with  him,  looking  crestfallen.  'Beaten 
after  all,'  he  said,  '  and  all  my  fault.  I  feel  horribly 
ashamed  of  myself.'  Helen  was  a  little  out  of  temper 
at  the  moment,  and  Guy's  humility  did  not  soften  her 
heart.  '  I  thought  you  were  a  little  too  sure  of 
winning,'  she  answered,  in  a  tone  that  was  unusual  with 
her.  Colonel  Treveryan  laughed,  and  she  turned  upon 
him  with  a  wrath  that  was  only  half  assumed.  '  Don't 
laugh,  father.  I  hate  being  beaten.  I  think  Syntia 
played  abominably.'  Then  the  grays  stepped  off,  the 
carriage  wheels  rolling  noiselessly  over  the  short  dry 
grass,  and  Guy  turned  away,  hurt  and  unhappy. 

The  Sunday's  rest  was  needed,  for  several  of  the 
party,  men   and   women,  were  beginning  to   feel    the 


X  CHRISTMAS  WEEK  I37 

efifect  of  the  past  week's  dissipation.  Guy  Langley, 
after  some  doubt,  rode  over  to  the  Civil  Station  for 
morning  church;  and  Helen,  who  was  feeling  guilty, 
came  and  asked  him  to  stay  to  lunch.  There  were  a 
number  of  people  there,  and  she  said  little  to  him, 
but  there  was  an  unspoken  apology  in  the  tone  of  her 
voice. 

After  tea  Guy  sent  for  his  dress-clothes,  and  went 
on  to  dine  with  the  Hunters,  who  were  always  glad  to 
see  him.  He  got  home  late,  as  the  clocks  were 
striking  the  last  hour  of  the  old  year.  On  the  whole 
it  had  been  a  very  happy  one. 


CHAPTEE  XI 

THE  PKOCLAMATION  OF  THE  EMPIRE 

Delhi,  the  city  of  the  Moguls,  was  to  be  the  scene  of 
a  splendid  pageant  on  the  first  day  of  1877.  Follow- 
ing up  a  suggestion  made  by  Lord  Ellenborough  many 
years  before,  the  Viceroy  was  that  day  to  proclaim  to 
the  assembled  chiefs  and  notables  of  India  that  Her 
Majesty  the  Queen  had  assumed  the  Imperial  title. 

Vast  preparations  had  been  made  for  the  event. 
The  native  princes  had  been  brought  together  from 
every  part  of  the  country.  Eajput  and  Mahratta  and 
Mahometan  and  Sikh,  great  and  small,  from  the  ruler 
of  millions  to  the  ruler  of  a  few  thousands,  all  had 
assembled  to  do  honour  to  the  English  Queen.  The 
rulers  of  British  provinces  were  present  also,  each  with 
a  large  camp;  and  there  were  some  thousands  of 
troops.  Looking  down  from  the  historic  Eidge,  where 
a  little  body  of  Englishmen  and  loyal  Indians  had 
stood  at  bay,  besieging  and  besieged,  through  the 
terrible  summer  of  1857,  one  saw  in  every  direction 
long  streets  of  tents — a  real  city  of  canvas.  There 
our  fiercest  fighting  had  been  twenty  years  before; 


CHAP.  XI       THE  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  EMPIRE  139 

there  the  English  Empire  was  now  to  be  formally  pro- 
claimed. It  was  proclaimed  with  great  pomp,  and  on 
the  whole  Lord  Lytton  was  successful  in  a  very  difficult 
task.  There  were  murmurs  of  course.  The  heralds 
and  tabards  and  banners  and  trumpets  made  the  enemy 
blaspheme.  There  was  too  much  sky-blue  satin,  too 
little  gray  steel.  The  ceremonial  undoubtedly  savoured 
of  Drury  Lane. 

Still  it  did  good.  The  immense  concourse  im- 
pressed the  native  chiefs,  many  of  whom  then  met  for 
the  first  time — met  to  do  homage  together  at  the  foot 
of  the  English  throne.  Among  them  were  men  who 
could  remember  the  days  when  the  English  power  was 
still  struggling  for  supremacy.  The  first  who  rose  in 
his  place  to  hail  the  Empress- Queen  was  one  whose 
own  soldiery  had  stood  against  us  in  two  bloody  battles 
thirty  years  before.  Throughout  the  continent  of  India 
men  felt  that  the  ceremonial  had  a  real  mieaning.  It 
was  not  all  burlesque. 

In  connection  with  the  grand  gathering  at  Delhi 
were  minor  ceremonials  at  all  the  local  centres. 

In  Syntia  the  day  began  with  a  parade  of  the  Thir- 
tieth and  the  detachment  of  Native  Infantry  ;  and  the 
Colonel  announced  in  the  presence  of  all  who  cared  to 
attend  that  the  Queen  was  now  Empress  of  India. 
There  were  three  ringing  cheers  and  a  feu-de-joie,  and 
much  fluttering  of  pennons  and  shimmer  of  lance 
points  and  bayonets. 

After  breakfast  there  was  the  durbar.    This  was  held 


140  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

in  the  grounds  of  a  large  house  which  had  been  built 
by  a  wealthy  planter  many  years  before.  It  now  be- 
longed to  one  of  the  principal  landowners  of  the  district 
The  house  stood  high,  overlooking  the  river  and  the  flat 
country  beyond.  The  grounds  were  open  and  extensive. 
It  had  been  arranged  that  the  durhar  should  be  held 
in  a  large  sliamiana  or  tent  pitched  in  the  garden. 

Eleven  o'clock  was  fixed  for  the  ceremony.  Long 
before  that  time  the  native  gentlemen  whose  rank  en- 
titled them  to  a  seat  had  begun  to  assemble.  Many  of 
these  had  come  from  the  outlying  districts  of  the  pro- 
vince, and  had  found  quarters  in  the  town  of  Syntia, 
or  were  encamped  in  the  neighbourhood.  The  day  was 
a  great  one,  and  it  furnished  occasion  for  a  fierce  rivalry 
between  the  more  important  families,  who  had  been 
open  enemies  in  days  gone  by.  Now  the  Pax  Bri- 
tannica  had  descended  upon  them,  and  they  were 
obliged  to  refrain  from  attacking  one  another ;  but  the 
old  feuds  were  alive.  The  Civil  officers  had  had  much 
trouble  in  settling  the  relative  precedence  of  some  who 
had  not  before  met  in  public  ceremonial,  and  there  had 
been  quarrelling  between  the  rival  retinues,  and  event- 
ually an  affray  in  which  three  or  four  men  were 
wounded.  However,  all  had  passed  off  without  serious 
disturbance,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  1st  of  January, 
though  there  was  still  some  smouldering  discontent,  all 
outward  differences  had  been  composed.  They  came 
to  the  durbar  with  evident  interest  and  enjoyment,  in 
every  variety  of  dress  and  vehicle. 


XI  THE  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  EMPIRE  141 

The  fine  old  Eaja  of  Jainagar  drove  up  in  a  lofty- 
barouche  lined  with  primrose  satin,  the  harness  bright 
with  massive  silver  mountings,  and  half  a  dozen  horse- 
men cantering  behind  him.  The  silver -mounted 
harness  was  broken  in  one  place  and  tied  up  with 
cord ;  and  the  horsemen  were  dressed  in  badly-fitting 
uniforms,  imitated  from  our  Native  Cavalry ;  and  the 
animals  they  rode  were  miserable  ponies  only  fit  for 
the  knacker's  yard.  But  in  the  East  splendour  and 
squalor  always  go  hand  in  hand.  The  silk  and  the 
silver  made  a  brave  show,  and  the  horsemen  raised  a 
most  impressive  dust,  and  who  cared  for  the  cord-tied 
harness  and  the  broken  knees  of  the  horses  ?  Not  the 
crowd.  They  said,  '  Shdvdsh  !  The  Eaja  Sahib  has  a 
fine  sowarree!  And  the  Eaja  Sahib  sat  alone  on  the 
back  seat  of  his  carriage,  looking  very  magnificent .  in 
his  coat  of  brocade,  with  a  necklace  of  huge  pearls 
round  his  neck,  and  his  gold-hilted  sword  in  his  hands  ; 
while  two  very  fat  sons  sat  opposite  to  him.  Behind 
him  clung  three  grooms  in  coats  of  red  English  cloth. 
Two  had  hats  of  the  same  pattern,  while  the  third  had 
a  dirty  white  turban,  and  the  tail  of  his  red  coat  bore 
as  an  ornament  some  gold  lettering,  W.  F.  104  A.  3, 
which  marked  the  end  of  the  piece. 

The  Eaja  Sahib  and  his  retinue  looked  funny  to 
English  eyes ;  but  he  was  a  gentleman  and  a  power 
in  the  countryside.  He  had  done  loyal  service  to  us 
twenty  years  before,  during  the  Mutiny,  when  the 
hearts  of  men  all  round  him  were  failing  them  for 


142  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

fear ;  and  he  was  held  in  high  esteem  by  the  English 
Government,  who  had  made  him  a  Knight  of  the  Star 
of  India.^ 

Close  behind  the  Eaja  Sahib  came  a  plain  close 
carriage,  in  which  was  seated  Earn  Lai  Das,  the  great 
money-lender,  who  was  only  too  well  known  to  the 
leading  families  of  the  neighbourhood.  Eam  Lai  Das 
was  a  rather  handsome  man,  very  simply  dressed  in 
white,  with  a  short  well-groomed  beard,  and  one  large 
pearl  in  each  ear.  He  was  a  powerful  man  too  in  his 
own  way,  and  a  sincere  friend  of  the  English,  as  well 
he  might  be.  There  was  no  periodical  squeezing  of 
money-lenders  under  the  British  rule. 

Next  to  the  money-lender's  carriage  came  another 
of  the  same  description  belonging  to  Mr.  Chatterjee, 
the  Bengali  pleader.  Mr.  Chatterjee  was  a  stout, 
smooth-faced  man,  wearing  a  flat  hat  like  a  solidified 
halo,   and    a    kind   of  frockcoat   of   semi-transparent 

1  Why  does  the  English  Government  make  Knights  of  the  Star  of 
India,  or  Knights  of  the  Indian  Empire,  or  Knights  of  St.  Michael 
and  St.  George  ?  It  is  well  meant  no  doubt ;  but  surely  in  the 
interests  of  Imperial  unity  it  is  a  mistake.  An  Englishman  serving 
his  country  in  India  or  Australia  or  Africa  or  America  is  an  English- 
man still.  If  he  is  worthy  of  an  honour  let  him  have  an  English 
honour,  not  a  local  one  which  marks  him  as  something  different 
from  the  English  who  stay  at  home.  The  principle  is  recognised  in 
the  Army  ;  why  not  all  through  ?  An  Englishman  should  be  regarded 
as  an  Englishman  wherever  he  is  ;  and  as  to  the  Raja  Sahib,  if  you 
suppose  he  would  not  rather  have  the  title  of  Maharaja,  or  a  piece  of 
land,  or  a  couple  of  guns  added  to  his  salute,  than  a  silver  star  which 
his  heirs  must  give  up  at  his  death,  you  know  nothing  of  India.  Of 
course  you  can  create  a  demand  for  these  local  decorations  ;  but  it  is 
an  artificial  and  unwholesome  demand. 


XI  THE  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  EMPIRE  143 

yellowish  silk,  which  in  no  way  concealed  his  ample 
proportions.  In  the  fastening  at  the  breast  was  a 
gorgeous  gold  watch-chain.  Mr.  Chatterjee  was  con- 
nected with  the  vernacular  press,  and  was  ready  to 
declaim  on  any  subject  in  the  world  at  a  moment's 
notice.  He  professed  to  have  discarded  many  of  the 
prejudices  of  his  fathers,  but  was,  in  fact,  as  supersti- 
tious as  the  most  ignorant  villager.  He  was  pleasant 
enough  to  talk  to,  but  you  could  not  trust  him,  and 
he  was  an  ass,  though  a  cleverish  ass.  He  had  rela- 
tives in  every  Government  office  in  the  Bengal 
Presidency,  and  received  from  them  information  on 
all  sorts  of  subjects,  which  he  turned  into  rupees. 

Threading  his  way  through  the  block  of  palankeens 
and  carriages  came  Moulvi  Eoshan-ud-din,  the  most  in- 
fluential man  of  the  Mahometan  community  in  the  town 
of  Syntia.  He  had  been  to  Mecca,  and  had  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  a  great  scholar  and  a  very  devout  follower 
of  the  Prophet.  It  was  difficult  to  get  on  with  Eoshan- 
ud-din.  He  was  extremely  polite  to  any  Englishman  ; 
would  salaam  to  you  deeply  with  his  eyes  cast  down, 
and  would  speak  most  softly  and  courteously  in  answer 
to  any  question.  But  there  it  ended.  The  dark  eyes, 
with  their  discoloured  whites,  were  hardly  ever  lifted 
to  yours,  and  the  thin  bearded  face  showed  no  sign 
of  expression.  There  was  always  the  hand  gently 
moving  the  beads  along  the  string  of  the  rosary ;  and 
the  low  voice,  with  its  guttural  Arabic  pronunciation. 
You  got  no  further.     What  would  this  man  be   in 


144  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

time  of  trouble  ?  What  had  he  been  twenty  years 
before  ?     A  friend  perhaps.     Who  knows  ? 

They  assembled  in  the  grounds  of  the  durbar  house 
—  Eajas  and  money-lenders,  and  pleaders  and 
preachers,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  community,  and  were 
marshalled  to  their  seats  by  the  English  officials. 
The  shamiana  was  a  large  square  tent,  or  canopy,  the 
flat  canvas  roof  supported  by  wooden  pillars  draped 
with  twisted  cloth.  In  the  centre  was  an  open  space, 
round  three  sides  of  which  were  disposed,  in  the 
shape  of  a  horseshoe,  the  seats  of  the  principal 
persons.  At  the  top  was  a  chair  for  the  Com- 
missioner, Colonel  Treveryan,  who  represented  the 
British  Government.  To  his  right  the  front  row  of 
chairs  was  filled  by  English  officers,  military  and 
civil,  the  former  in  full  uniform,  the  latter  in  evening 
dress,  which  looked  very  odd  in  the  bright  sunshine. 
To  the  left  sat  some  of  the  chief  native  gentlemen  in 
order  of  precedence.  The  rest  of  the  tent  was  filled 
with  rows  of  chairs  occupied  by  Europeans  and 
natives.  The  centre  space  and  the  broad  red  carpeted 
road  to  the  doorway  were  kept  clear  by  a  few  men  of 
the  Thirtieth  Lancers  in  full  uniform,  facing  inwards. 
They  were  picked  men,  and  looked  very  fine  as  they 
stood  there,  motionless  as  statues,  the  embodiment  of 
English  discipline  and  military  power. 

At  last  all  the  guests  were  seated,  with  the  help  of 
little  Goldney,  who  was  very  shy  and  courteous, 
and  Anderson,  who  was  very  fussy  and  dictatorial,  in 


XI  THE  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  EMPIRE  145 

spite  of  a  coat  which  was  not  in  a  condition  to  face 
daylight.  Then  word  was  sent  to  Colonel  Treveryan, 
who  came  in,  wearing  his  military  uniform,  and  walked 
up  to  his  seat,  the  assembly  standing  to  receive  him. 

The  ceremonial  that  followed  was  very  simple. 
When  the  band  outside  had  played  a  bar  or  two  of  the 
national  anthem,  and  the  assembly  had  sat  down, 
Colonel  Treveryan,  who  remained  standing,  addressed 
them  and  informed  them  that  Her  Majesty  the  Queen 
had  assumed  the  Imperial  title.  At  the  most  impressive 
moment  of  his  speech  something  occurred  in  the  part 
of  the  tent  where  the  ladies  were  sitting,  and  one  or 
two  of  them  laughed.  Women  have  no  bump  of 
veneration ;  no  respect  for  solemn  things.  Otherwise 
the  oration  was  received  with  decorous  silence  until  it 
ended.  Applause  was  beginning;  but  Colonel  Trevervan 
checked  it  by  holding  up  his  hand,  and  repeated  his 
words  in  Hindustani.  Then  he  said,  '  Gentlemen,  the 
Queen,  Empress  of  India.'  And  a  hearty  cheer 
was  given  by  the  Englishmen  present — the  natives 
sitting  silent  and  motionless.  As  the  cheer  died  away 
a  gun  pealed  outside.  The  Eaja  Sahib  had  asked  to  be 
allowed  to  send  two  guns  in  to  Syntia  to  fire  a  salute. 

While  the  salute  was  going  on.  Colonel  Treveryan 
gave  the  signal  for  departure  by  leaving  his  place  and 
leading  the  Eaja  Sahib  to  the  entrance  of  the  tent. 
Then  the  great  men  drove  off  in  order  of  precedence 
with  much  crowding  and  shouting,  most  of  the 
Europeans  walking  away  in  the  cool  January  sun  to 

VOL.  I  L 


146  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

some  corner  where  they  had  left  their  carriages.  The 
ladies  had  an  exit  of  their  own  at  the  back. 

An  hour  later  the  great  tent  was  empty,  but  for  a 
few  nearly  naked  coolies  who  were  removing  the  chairs  in 
order  that  the  tables  might  be  laid  for  the  ball  supper 
in  the  evening. 

The  management  of  this  entertainment  had  been 
confided  by  the  Eaja  to  his  own  district  officer,  Hunter  ; 
the  only  condition  being  that  the  Sahib  should  do 
everything  in  the  best  possible  way,  so  that  the  Eaja 
might  give  pleasure  to  his  white  guests  and  show  his 
loyalty  to  the  Queen.  Money  was  no  object ;  but  the 
ball  must  be  the  best  ever  given  in  Syntia. 

Hunter,  or  rather  Mrs.  Hunter,  was  thoroughly 
competent  to  carry  out  the  work.  The  house  was 
tastefully  decorated,  and  the  pretty  rolling  grounds  were 
lighted  up,  and  the  floor  was  almost  too  good.  No 
sticky  wax  was  allowed  to  profane  it ;  but  all  day  long 
a  line  of  coolies,  carefully  supervised,  were  tenderly 
rubbing  the  boards  with  smooth-cut  cocoanuts,  until 
the  surface  had  assumed  a  hard  true  polish  and  shone 
like  a  pebble.  The  band  of  the  Thirtieth  were  to  play 
in  an  adjoining  verandah,  which  was  tented  in  to  retain 
the  sound.  All  round  the  hall  were  well-furnished 
rooms;  and  behind,  in  nooks  of  the  cool  dark  terrace  over- 
looking the  river,  were  a  number  of  seats.  The  supper 
was  everything  it  should  be,  and  the  wine  was  the  very 
best.  The  programme  was  characteristic  of  Mrs.  Hunter. 
She  liked  her  dancing  strong,  and  objected  to  wasting 


XI  THE  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  EMPIRE  147 

the  evening  in  squares.  There  was  a  quadrille  to  begin 
with,  and  then  a  succession  of  waltzes,  with  a  very  rare 
polka  or  gallop  and  three  sets  of  Lancers.  Supper  at 
twelve,  with  about  half  a  dozen  couples  told  off  for 
the  centre  table,  and  every  one  else  to  make  his  own 
arrangements.  As  aide-de-camp  and  general  assistant 
she  had  secured  Dale,  who  was  as  keen  about  a  dance 
as  he  was  about  everything  else.  He  had  worked 
nobly  and  succeeded  well ;  and  he  was  at  her  elbow 
when  the  guests  began  to  arrive. 

It  was  a  beautiful  night  as  Guy  climbed  to  his  place 
on  the  Thirtieth's  drag  after  dinner.  The  stars  were 
shining  out  of  a  cloudless  sky ;  and  there  was  just  cold 
enough  in  the  air  to  make  an  ulster  comfortable.  Away 
towards  the  native  town  a  rocket  occasionally  rose  and 
broke  against  the  darkness.  As  they  drove  on  a  faint 
glow  appeared  in  this  quarter,  and  it  gradually  brightened 
until  they  topped  the  last  rise  in  the  road  and  the  town 
lay  below  them.     It  was  a  pretty  sight. 

There  is  perhaps  no  country  in  the  world  where 
illuminations  are  so  beautiful  as  in  India.  Instead  of 
the  hard  glitter  of  gas,  and  the  still  harder  and  whiter 
glare  of  the  electric  light,  and  the  stiff  decorations  which 
hurt  the  eye  in  an  English  or  French  or  German  town, 
there  is  the  soft  deep  glow  produced  by  countless 
thousands  of  the  native  chirdghs.  These  are  little 
earthenware  saucers,  with  a  few  spoonfuls  of  oil  in  them 
and  a  loose  wick  of  twisted  cotton.  The  light  they 
give,  when  in  large  numbers,  is  peculiarly  warm  and 


148  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

rich ;  and  the  very  simplicity  of  the  instrument  used 
makes  it  the  more  flexible  and  effective.  Instead  of 
being  confined  to  artificial  patterns,  expressed  in  gas- 
pipes,  the  Indian  puts  rows  of  lamps  along  the  edge 
of  his  flat  roof,  along  the  sills  and  arches  of  his  doors 
and  windows,  at  every  point  where  the  little  saucers 
will  easily  stand  or  hang.  An  Indian  street  is  full  of 
picturesque  variations  of  architecture,  and  these  are 
picked  out  in  lines  of  yellow  light  which  adapt  them- 
selves to  the  graceful  forms  of  the  buildings.  Some- 
times the  Indian  spoils  the  whole  thing  by  erecting 
stiff  horizontal  lines  of  bamboos  along  his  roads,  and 
stringing  lamps  on  them,  which  shows  that  the  beauty 
of  the  usual  illuminations  is  not  wholly  due  to 
artistic  taste ;  but  this  is  rare.  The  rolling  ground 
upon  which  Syntia  was  built,  and  the  masses  of  dark 
trees  which  broke  the  lines  of  street  and  wall,  and 
the  smooth  surface  of  the  river  beyond  reflecting 
innumerable  lights,  all  added  to  the  beauty  of  the  scene. 
Away  to  the  right  Guy  could  make  out  the  diirlar  house, 
which  stood  alone  and  high  at  some  distance  from  the 
town.  The  drive  was  picked  out  by  a  line  of  lights, 
and  he  could  see  the  carriages  going  slowly  up  through 
the  glare.  There  and  in  the  town  was  much  noise  and 
confusion.  An  Indian,  like  an  Italian,  can  do  nothing 
without  shouting. 

As  the  party  from  the  cantonment  walked  up  the 
broad  stone  steps,  they  saw  at  the  top,  waiting  to 
receive  them,  the   giver  of  the   entertainment.     The 


XI  THE  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  EMPIRE  149 

Eaja  Sahib  was  resplendent  with  silk  and  jewels,  and 
looked  a  striking  figure.  Fully  six  feet  in  height, 
with  a  handsome  face  and  courteous  dignified  manner, 
he  was  an  admirable  specimen  of  his  class,  the  Eajput 
aristocracy,  who  are  ready  to  be  our  firm  friends  if  we 
will  have  them  so,  and  who  can  bring  their  country 
with  them. 

Shaking  hands  with  the  Eaja  Sahib  and  the  two 
fat  sons,  who  were  magnificent  but  very  inferior  to 
their  father  in  appearance,  Guy  made  his  way  into  the 
ballroom  which  was  already  pretty  full.  His  first 
look  was  for  Helen  Treveryan,  whom  he  saw  a  little 
higher  up  the  room,  standing  by  her  father  and  sur- 
rounded by  applicants.  He  was  welcomed  with  a 
bright  look  of  pleasure,  and  secured  a  waltz,  No.  4. 

'  Only  one.  Miss  Treveryan,'  he  said  in  a  tone  of 
disappointment ;  '  can't  you  give  me  another  ? ' 

'  I  think  you  are  very  ungrateful,  Mr.  Langley.  I 
kept  that  one  for  you,  although  you  were  so  late,  and 
I  have  made  an  enemy  of  Mr.  Anderson  for  life.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  was  listening  with  a  smile  on 
liis  face.  He  had  seen  with  pleasure  the  admiration 
which  Helen  had  aroused  among  the  men  about  him, 
and  he  felt  generously  inclined.  '  Give  him  one  of 
mine,  Nellie,'  he  said.  '  It  is  selfish  of  me  to  keep 
two  for  myself.'  Guy  looked  as  if  he  quite  agreed, 
but  Helen  refused  at  once.  '  No  ;  I  won't  do  anything 
of  the  kind,'  she  answered.  '  I  am  not  going  to  lose 
my  best  waltzes.     No  one  dances  as  well  as  you  do.' 


150  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

The  difficulty  was  compromised  at  last.  Guy  was  to 
have  an  extra,  if  there  were  any  extras,  and  a  square. 

It  was  a  delightful  dance.  The  floor  was  perfect, 
and  the  band  was  good,  and  there  were  many  pretty 
dresses.  Guy's  first  waltz  was  real  bliss.  He  and 
Helen  both  had  a  good  ear,  and  they  had  thoroughly 
caught  each  other's  step.  As  they  went  smoothly 
round,  steering  through  the  crowd  about  them  with 
an  ease  born  of  perfect  sympathy  and  confidence,  they 
were  the  handsomest  and  best  matched  pair  in  the 
room.  Colonel  Treveryan,  a  good  dancer  himself, 
watched  them  with  pleasure ;  and  the  little  Pink  'un 
gazed  at  them  with  envy. 

Between  that  waltz  and  supper  they  sat  out  their 
square  on  the  terrace.  Helen  had  been  dancing 
steadily  and  was  glad  of  the  rest.  She  was  looking 
perfectly  beautiful,  Guy  thought,  as  he  led  her  out  of 
the  room ;  her  eyes  bright  and  her  face  a  little  flushed 
with  the  exercise.  They  found  a  seat  overlooking  the 
river,  and  sat  down.  '  Are  you  sure  it  is  not  too  cold 
for  you  ? '  Guy  said,  as  she  took  her  hand  from  his 
arm,  and  his  voice  had  a  tender  solicitude  about  it 
which  might  have  betrayed  him.  But  Helen  was 
young  and  untrained,  and  she  did  not  notice.  '  Oh 
no/  she  said.     '  It  is  delightful  to  be  out  of  the  heat.' 

It  was  very  pleasant.  Behind  them,  in  the  house, 
they  could  hear  the  quick  music  of  the  Lancers ;  but 
the  terrace  was  broad  and  the  sound  was  mufiled. 
Twenty  feet  below  them   lay  the   river.     The   house 


XI  THE  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  EMPIRE  151 

stood  at  the  end  of  a  curve ;  and  looking  to  tlieir  left 
they  could  follow  the  line  of  the  southern  bank  as  far 
as  the  buildings  of  the  town  a  mile  away.  The  light 
from  the  illuminations  was  reflected  in  the  water ;  and 
boats  bearing  torches  were  moving  upon  its  surface. 
From  these  boats  men  were  launching  little  lamps  of 
various  colours,  which  floated  slowly  down  the  stream 
into  the  darkness  below  the  town.  Many  of  these 
frail  vessels  disappeared  before  they  had  gone  far,  but 
many  survived.  Guy  and  Helen  Treveryan  watched 
them  as  they  came  on — a  fairy  fleet,  forming  and 
scattering  and  reforming  in  countless  combinations 
upon  the  dimly  seen  surface  of  the  river,  as  the  air 
or  the  eddies  drifted  them.  They  floated  slowly  by 
and  disappeared  under  the  palms  and  bamboos  which 
fringed  the  bank  to  the  right.  Across  the  river,  to 
the  north,  was  the  blackness  of  the  earth,  and  above 
it  the  northern  stars. 

Neither  Guy  nor  Helen  spoke  much.  She  was 
conscious  of  nothing  but  a  sense  of  exquisite  happiness. 
To  him,  as  he  sat  by  her  side,  with  her  dress  touching 
his  hand,  and  her  beautiful  face  and  throat  dimly  seen 
in  the  starlight,  there  suddenly  came  an  almost  over- 
powering longing — the  fiery  reckless  passion  of  a 
young  man's  love.  His  heart  began  to  beat  hard,  and 
in  another  moment  he  would  have  been  carried  away, 
when  she  broke  the  spell.  The  Lancers  were  over, 
and  there  now  came  through  the  open  doors  the  first 
notes  of  a  waltz.     Helen  heard  and  got  up  at  once. 


152  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

'  You  must  take  me  in  now,  please.  The  next  is  my 
father's  dance.  I  must  not  be  late  for  that.'  As  they 
passed  across  the  terrace  she  stopped  again  for  an 
instant,  and  looked  back  towards  the  river.  'How 
beautiful  it  is/  she  said  with  a  slight  tremor  in  her 
voice.  And  Guy  answered  fervently,  '  It  is  like 
heaven  to  me.'  Like  heaven!  A  pretty  girl,  a 
starry  sky  over  a  silent  Indian  river,  and  a  little 
dance  music  to  set  one's  heart  going.  Well,  we  have 
all  had  our  moments  of  heaven  on  earth,  and  were 
they  more  poetically  constituted  ?  Later  in  the  even- 
ing Guy  tried  to  revive  the  dream,  but  when  do  such 
dreams  revive  ?  He  got  his  extra  waltz  during  supper, 
and  after  it  he  took  Helen  out  to  the  terrace  again  ;  but 
her  mood  had  apparently  changed.  She  was  talking 
about  something  that  had  amused  her,  and  seemed  in 
no  humour  to  sit  down  again.  Moreover,  a  surprise 
had  been  prepared  for  the  guests,  which  soon  brought 
the  whole  of  them  out  to  the  back  of  the  house. 

If  there  is  one  thing  which  natives  of  India,  high 
or  low,  love  with  aU  their  souls,  it  is  htish  hdzi — fire- 
works, or  fire-play  as  they  more  accurately  call  it. 
They  will  spend  any  amount  of  money  in  this  way, 
and  seem  never  to  have  enough.  Much  against  his 
judgment  Hunter  had  agreed,  in  deference  to  the 
earnest  desire  of  a  great  native  landholder,  who  was 
heavily  in  debt,  but  very  jealous  of  the  Eaja  Sahib's 
ball  and  very  anxious  to  show  his  loyalty,  that  at 
twelve  o'clock  there  should  be  a  display  of  fireworks 


XI  THE  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  EMPIRE  153 

upon  a  little  sandy  island  which  lay  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river,  midway  between  the  town  and  the 
durbar  house,  so  that  Europeans  and  natives  alike 
might  profit  by  the  sight. 

The  display  was  announced  by  some  explosions 
like  fog -signals,  and  then  began  the  usual  thing. 
Eockets  whizzed  into  the  sky,  singly  or  in  bouquets, 
and  broke  in  showers  of  gold  and  green  and  red; 
Catherine  wheels  whirled  and  hissed ;  squibs  spouted ; 
half -lit  crosses  and  stars  gleamed  through  the 
smoke,  and  half-  extinguished  blackening  circles 
swung  slowly  round,  and  came  to  an  inglorious 
end ;  two  floating  forts  as  big  as  hay  waggons 
blazed  into  one  another  for  some  minutes  with  a 
tremendous  noise  of  cannon  and  musketry  at  a 
distance  of  ten  yards ;  an  elephant  and  a  h©rse 
of  strange  proportions  arose  outlined  in  fire ;  and 
finally  there  was  a  splendid  trophy,  consisting  of  an 
Imperial  crown  over  the  motto  '  God  bless  the  Queen- 
Empress  of  India.'  The  effect  of  this  work  of  art  was 
somewhat  marred  by  the  resolute  refusal  of  the  two 
n's  to  do  their  duty,  which  made  ribald  subalterns 
jeer,  and  by  the  powder  smoke,  which  had  drifted 
across  the  river  and  made  the  ladies  cough;  but  it 
was  very  fine. 

The  giver  of  the  entertainment  had  come  to  the 
durhar  house,  and  it  was  necessary  in  common  civility 
to  put  seats  on  the  terrace  and  enjoy  the  show ;  but 
after  a  time  it  became  a  bore.     The  young  men  and 


154  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  xi 

maidens  murmured,  and  every  one  was  tired  of  it. 
However,  it  was  over  at  last,  and  the  calm  stars  shone 
out  again,  looking  rather  contemptuous ;  and  the  Civil 
officers  were  very  complimentary  to  the  Thakur  Sahib, 
who  seemed  pleased  and  went  away  smiling.  The 
crowd  said  there  had  been  a  great  tamasha,  and  that 
it  had  cost  a  lakh  of  rupees ;  and  the  dancing  began 
again  more  vigorously  than  ever.  It  was  nearly  four 
o'clock  before  the  ladies  had  all  gone,  and  the  young 
men  sat  down  to  the  substantial  second  supper  which 
some  of  them  rued  so  bitterly  later  in  the  day. 


CHAPTEE    XII 

MK.  PITT  WEIGHT 

After  the  ball  Syntia  soon  settled  down  into  its 
wonted  quiet.  Most  of  the  guests  dispersed  next 
day.  They  enjoyed  a  '  Europe  morning,'  and  rose  to 
a  very  late  breakfast ;  and  in  the  course  of  the  after- 
noon they  scattered  in  all  directions,  as  they  had 
come,  by  road  and  rail  and  river.  Then  the  white 
tents,  which  had  become  yellow  with  ten  days'  duet, 
disappeared  from  among  the  mango  trees ;  and  the 
Civil  officers  went  back  to  their  regular  grind  again, 
and  the  soldiers  to  their  parades  and  musketry ;  and 
there  was  peace  in  the  land. 

There  was  a  sense  of  dreariness  too  at  first,  after 
all  the  racket  of  the  past  week,  and  the  ladies  looked 
rather  fagged ;  but  this  passed  off  in  a  few  days. 

To  Guy  all  seemed  a  delicious  dream.  There  was 
no  doubt  about  it  now.  Since  the  evening  of  the 
dance  he  had  been  hopelessly  fascinated.  Others  had 
noticed  his  manner  to  Helen  that  night,  if  she  had 
not ;  and  he  made  little  attempt  to  deny  to  his  own 
heart    that    he    had    fallen   at   her  feet.      Yet,  with 


156  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

characteristic  indolence  and  enjoyment  of  the  present, 
Guy  Langley  did  not  even  now  seriously  put  before 
himself  the  idea  of  marriage.  He  was  in  love  with 
Helen  Treveryan,  and  he  let  his  love  have  full  course ; 
he  did  his  utmost  to  be  with  her,  and  to  make  himself 
pleasant  to  her.  But  he  said  nothing  to  her  that  need 
change  for  good  or  evil  the  easy  familiar  footing  upon 
which  they  stood  to  one  another.  Helen  was  still 
unconscious  of  his  feelings.  She  had  plenty  of  happi- 
ness in  her  life,  and  none  of  that  vulgarity  of  mind 
which  keeps  so  many  young  women  always  on  the 
look-out  for  a  '  follower.'  So  the  matter  stood,  and 
so  it  might  perhaps  have  remained  for  a  considerable 
time  longer  if  something  had  not  come  to  disturb  the 
even  tenor  of  their  lives. 

Not  long  after  the  festivities  of  Christmas  week 
there  arrived  at  Syntia  a  young  Englishman  who  was 
travelling  in  India,  and  had  been  passed  on  from  head- 
quarters with  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Colonel 
Treveryan.  Mr.  Pitt  Wright  was  a  man  of  about 
nine -and -twenty,  with  a  fine  place  in  the  Eastern 
counties  and  an  income  vaguely  spoken  of  as  twenty 
thousand  a  year.  He  had  lost  his  father  when  he 
was  a  boy,  and  had  grown  up  without  much  home 
discipline.  He  was  by  no  means  a  fool ;  but  he  was 
proud  of  his  money,  and  extremely  careful  in  spending 
it ;  and  he  had  a  conceited,  supercilious  manner,  par- 
ticularly with  women,  which  was  not  agreeable.  He 
contemplated  entering  upon  a  political  career,  and  had 


XII  MR.  PITT  WRIGHT  157 

some  ideas  on  the  subject  of  India ;  but  at  present  lie 
was  travelling  for  pleasure  and  sport. 

This  unbidden  guest  settled  down  upon  Colonel 
Treveryan's  house  as  if  it  belonged  to  him.  He  had 
first  fallen  upon  the  ever-hospitable  Viceroy,  and  had 
attached  himself  to  the  headquarters  establishment 
with  a  calm  tenacity  which  became  first  amusing  and 
then  infuriating.  The  aides-de-camp  cursed  him,  and 
to  all  concerned  he  made  himself  an  intolerable  bore. 
He  was  sent  away  for  a  time  to  see  the  native  capital 
of  Jeypore,  and  the  Taj,  and  the  Golden  Temple ;  but 
he  turned  up  again  for  the  great  assemblage  at  Delhi, 
and  had  to  be  accommodated  with  a  tent  in  the  camp. 
There  he  grumbled  at  everything  provided  for  him,  and 
added  appreciably  to  the  troubles  of  the  staff,  who 
were  already  worked  off  their  legs.  When  the  Delhi 
camp  broke  up  he  was  at  last  shaken  off,  very  much 
against  his  will.  He  had  still  to  get  rid  of  a  fortnight 
or  more  before  the  beginning  of  the  shooting-party 
in  which  he  had  been  given  a  place,  and  as  Syntia 
was  in  the  midst  of  some  of  the  recognised  sights 
of  India,  and  he  had  nowhere  in  particular  to  go,  he 
consented  with  a  not  very  good  grace  to  pay  a  visit 
to  the  Commissioner. 

He  arrived  by  train  one  evening  in  January,  and 
was  met  by  Colonel  Treveryan  who  drove  him  up 
from  the  station.  He  seemed  to  be  in  an  indifferent 
humour ;  complained  in  a  hard  level  voice,  very  much 
at  the  back  of  his  throat,  of  the  filthy  food  which  he 


158  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

had  got  at  the  refreshment -rooms ;  and  was  strong 
against  the  shameful  slowness  of  the  trains,  and  the 
way  in  which  the  native  porters  clamoured  for  haJcshish 
at  every  turn.  Helen  was  out  riding  when  he  arrived, 
but  they  met  soon  afterwards  at  dinner.  Mr.  Pitt 
Wright  did  not  make  a  favourable  impression  upon 
her.  He  talked  rather  cleverly,  but  he  talked  too 
much.  He  evidently  considered  himself  of  very  much 
greater  importance  than  his  host,  or  the  few  people 
who  had  been  asked  to  meet  him.  He  interrupted 
and  corrected  without  scruple,  and  his  manner  to 
Helen  herself  was  familiar  and  patronising.  More 
than  once  she  felt  tempted  to  object  strongly  to  some 
of  his  remarks ;  but  she  restrained  herself,  and  her 
father  saw  only  that  she  was  rather  cool  and  distant. 

When  the  ladies  left  the  room,  Colonel  Treveryan 
walked  round  to  the  other  end  of  the  table  where  the 
stranger  was  sitting,  and  took  his  daughter's  chair. 
Pitt  Wright  had  pulled  out  his  cigarette-case,  and  was 
lighting  a  cigarette  from  a  candle  in  front  of  him. 
Having  started  this  to  his  satisfaction,  he  sat  back  in 
his  chair  and  began  to  talk  again. 

'  How  disgraceful  the  native  carriages  are  on  your 
Indian  lines,'  he  said.  'I  wonder  the  people  stand 
it.  Some  one  ought  really  to  take  the  matter  up. 
They  are  frightfully  crowded,  and  the  seats  are  nothing 
but  narrow  boards,  and  the  whole  thing  is  like  a  cattle 
pen.' 

'  Natives  can  travel  by  any  class,'  Colonel  Treveryan 


XII  ,  MR.  PITT  WRIGHT  159 

said.  '  The  third-class  carriages  are  very  crowded  at 
times  no  doubt,  but  the  people  who  travel  third-class 
in  India  are  not  accustomed  to  sitting  on  cushions,  and 
would  vote  them  a  nuisance,  I  fancy,  in  hot  weather. 
It  is  difficult  to  see  what  one  can  do.  The  fares  are 
very  low  indeed,  a  farthing  a  mile  or  less,  and  I  suppose 
the  Companies  can't  afford  to  give  better  accommodation 
for  the  money.' 

'  Ah !  you  are  like  the  rest,  my  dear  Colonel.  You've 
got  accustomed  to  it.  Anything  is  good  enough  for  a 
nigger.  But  I  assure  you  the  thing  would  not  be 
allowed  for  a  moment  if  the  British  public  knew  of  it. 
You  will  have  to  treat  them  better  one  of  these 
days.' 

'  1  don't  think  they  would  tell  you  that  I  am 
inclined  to  treat  them  very  badly,'  Colonel  Treveryan 
answered;  and  he  repressed  the  feeling  of  irritation 
that  his  guest's  words  had  stirred  up.  Were  they  not 
always  the  same,  these  ignorant  globe-trotters,  always 
ready  to  take  for  granted  that  their  countrymen  were 
brutal  oppressors  ?  What  was  the  use  of  arguing 
about  it  ?  He  carried  off  the  conversation  to  other 
topics,  trying  to  find  out  what  were  his  guest's  tastes 
and  wishes  and  what  could  be  done  to  amuse  him. 
The  result  was  not  very  encouraging. 

Mr.  Pitt  Wright  did  not  much  care  about  going  to 
see  the  old  '  City  of  the  Dead  '  in  the  forest,  which  was 
one  of  the  sights  near  Syntia.  It  had  once  been  a 
great  Hindu  capital,  and  there  were  ruined  temples 


i6o  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

and  houses  and  tanks,  all  deserted  now,  tenanted  only 
by  bats  and  jackals,  and  overgrown  by  jungle  trees. 
'  I  have  seen  such  quantities  of  these  ruins,'  he  said, 
'about  Delhi.  They  are  very  picturesque  no  doubt, 
but  they  are  very  much  alike.  A  little  of  them  goes 
a  long  way.'  Would  he  care  to  go  down  by  boat 
to  the  great  religious  fair  on  the  river -bank  at  Eam- 
gunge  ?  Pilgrims  came  to  it  from  all  parts  of  India, 
and  one  could  see  a  great  variety  of  types.  '  Er,  yes, 
I  don't  mind  ;  I  think  that  would  be  rather  interesting ; 
but  don't  they  have  cholera  at  these  places  ? '  Would 
he  go  and  pay  a  visit  to  the  Eaja  of  Leree  and  see  the 
famous  rock  fortress  which  had  never  been  taken  ? 
No,  he  thought  not.  He  had  seen  some  of  these  hill 
forts  already,  and  they  really  were  rather  a  fraud. 
Then  there  was  the  position  held  by  our  people  in  the 
Mutiny,  when  the  contingent  revolted.  Week  after 
week  a  party  of  English  officers  and  civilians  and  a 
company  of  British  infantry,  backed  by  a  few  faithful 
natives,  had  held  a  large  enclosed  house  on  the  river- 
bank  ;  the  men  fighting  grandly  against  hopeless  odds, 
and  the  poor  ladies  sharing  the  danger  and  privation, 
and  doing  their  best  to  help  by  nursing  the  sick  and 
wounded.  The  house  was  still  there,  all  shattered 
and  pitted  with  round  shot  and  musketry,  and  the 
feeble  earthworks  round  it  had  not  yet  wholly  dis- 
appeared under  the  wash  of  the  rains.  It  was  a 
sight  to  fill  any  English  heart  with  pity  and  pride. 
Surely  no  Enghshman  could  turn  carelessly  away  from 


XII  MR.  PITT  WRIGHT  i6i 

the  spot  where  his  countrymen  had  made  that  desperate 
stand.  'Thanks/  Pitt  Wright  said.  'I  don't  much 
care  about  battlefields.  I  don't  profess  to  understand 
military  matters ;  and  after  all,  these  little  fights  out 
here  were  not  of  much  importance.  Some  day,  if  you 
happen  to  be  driving  round  that  way,  you  might  show 
it  me.'  Finally  Captain  Lee,  who  was  one  of  the 
party,  arranged  to  show  Pitt  Wright  a  day's  pig- 
sticking ;  and  it  was  also  settled  that  he  would  try 
a  morning  with  the  snipe  in  a  neighbouring  jheel. 
'  I  have  no  doubt,'  he  remarked,  '  that  I  shall  make 
myself  happy  enough  somehow,  until  the  tiger-shooting 
begins.' 

Then  they  joined  the  ladies.  Helen  had  avoided 
asking  a  large  party  the  first  night  in  case  her  guest 
should  be  tired  with  his  journey ;  but  Mrs.  Hunter  was 
there,  and  Mrs.  Stewart,  and  Mrs.  Lee.  Pitt  Wright 
went  and  sat  down  near  Mrs.  Stewart,  whom  he  had 
been  looking  at  during  dinner,  and  they  were  soon  in 
an  apparently  friendly  conversation. 

After  a  time  Hunter  asked  Helen  to  sing.  She 
knew  that  Hunter  and  Stewart  both  liked  it,  and  as 
none  of  the  other  ladies  sang  she  went  to  the  piano  as 
usual.  She  turned  over  her  music  and  took  out  a 
volume  of  German  songs  which  Hunter  always  de- 
manded. Then  the  beautiful  voice  rose  clear  and 
sweet  and  true,  every  word  audible  and  every  note 
easy  and  sure.  And  through  it  all,  through  the  soft  wail 
of  Schubert's  Ave  Maria,  and  through  Mendelssohn's 

VOL.  I  M 


i62  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

dreamy love-fliglit,  Anf  Flugdn  des  Gesanges,  to  tlie  banks 
of  the  sacred  stream,  came  at  intervals  the  hard  throaty 
tones  of  Pitt  Wright,  who  was  seated  in  a  long  low  chair, 
with  his  head  lying  back  and  his  legs  stretched  out, 
discoursing  to  Mrs.  Stewart  about  the  position  of  the 
Liberals  in  Norfolk.  It  was  not  her  fault.  She  was 
fond  of  music  herself  and  knew  better.  Her  husband 
looked  at  her  and  shook  his  head,  and  she  answered 
with  an  expressive  shrug  of  the  eyebrows.  What  are 
you  to  do  when  a  man  will  talk  whether  you  wish  it 
or  not  ?  She  returned  him  nothing  but  low  mono- 
syllables, and  looked  absently  towards  the  piano ;  but 
it  was  no  use.  She  had  set  him  off,  and  if  she  was 
not  more  interested  in  his  conversation  than  in  the 
music  he  was.  At  the  end  of  each  song  he  stopped  to 
say, '  Bravo,  excellent,'  and  then  went  on  talking. 

When  Helen  had  sung  three  or  four  songs  in 
succession,  she  turned  to  Hunter,  who  had  been  sitting 
listening  in  calm  enjoyment,  qualified  only  by  Pitt 
Wright's  strident  voice.  A  good  dinner  and  then 
music  was  exactly  his  notion  of  happiness.  '  Come 
along,  Mr.  Hunter,  and  join  in  a  chorus.  What  shall 
we  have  ?      GaucUamus  igitur  ? ' 

Hunter  sighed  and  got  up.  '  I  am  much  too  old  to 
sing  that,  and  it  is  pleasanter  listening  to  you.'  But 
he  came  nevertheless,  and  so  did  the  Lees,  and  then 
Mrs.  Stewart  took  advantage  of  a  pause  in  Pitt  Wright's 
remarks  and  offered  to  play  for  them,  and  they  started 
the  bright  cynical  student's  song. 


XII  MR.   PITT  WRIGHT  163 

Mr.  Pitt  Wright  declined  to  join  of  course.  He 
did  not  sing.  He  lay  out  in  his  chair,  with  his  head 
back  and  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  yawned  un- 
restrainedly at  intervals. 

They  had  one  or  two  more  songs,  and  after  that  the 
party  broke  up.  The  men  had  put  on  their  coats  and 
lighted  their  cigars,  and  were  standing  on  the  steps 
waiting  for  the  ladies,  who  were  wrapping  themselves 
up  in  a  side  room.  Pitt  Wright  had  risen,  with  an 
evident  effort,  to  say  good -night  to  them,  and  sank 
into  his  chair  again  as  they  walked  out.  Hunter 
turned  to  Treveryan  and  nodded  his  head  sideways 
towards  the  drawing-room.  'You  will  find  him  an 
awful  bore,  Treveryan.  How  long  is  he  going  to 
stay  ? ' 

'  Lord  knows ;  but  I  daresay  he  is  a  very ^  good 
fellow.' 

'  H'm.  I  daresay.  I  don't  like  the  species  myself. 
Come  along,  wife.  We're  keeping  every  one  wait- 
ing.' 

Treveryan  waited  until  the  last  carriage  had  driven 
off,  and  then  returned  to  the  drawing-room.  He  found 
his  guest  in  his  former  position  :  his  legs  stretched  out, 
and  the  soles  of  his  dress  shoes  facing  the  door.  Helen 
was  in  the  corner  behind  the  piano  gathering  up  her 
scattered  music.  As  Treveryan  came  in,  he  heard  Pitt 
Wright's  voice  talking  of  Mrs.  Stewart.  '  Not  a  bad- 
looking  woman,  and  decently  dressed  too.  Quite 
refreshing  after  what  I  have  been  going  through  of 


1 64  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

late.'  Helen  did  not  answer,  and  he  went  on :  '  Seen  the 
last  of  them  off,  Colonel  ?  Who  were  all  these 
respectable  people  ? '  Then,  without  waiting  for  an 
answer, '  By  the  way,  where  did  we  say  you  were  going 
to  take  me  to-morrow  ? ' 

'  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not  be  able  to  get  away  to- 
morrow morning,'  Treveryan  said.  '  I  have  some 
work;  but  I  thought  you  might  begin  by  driving 
over  to  cantonments  and  calling  on  the  regiment. 
In  the  afternoon  we  could  go  for  a  ride  if  you  liked, 
or  to  tennis  at  the  Club.' 

'  Oh,  very  well.  I  have  no  doubt  I  shall  get  along 
all  right.  'Now  I  think  I  will  say  good -night.  No, 
no  more  smoke,  thanks ;  I  am  rather  tired.' 

When  Pitt  Wright  had  gone,  Treveryan  changed 
his  coat  and  went  to  his  writing -room  for  a  cigar. 
Soon  afterwards  Helen  joined  him.  She  had  put  on 
what  she  called  her  smoking-coat,  a  loose  tea-gown  of 
Tussa  silk,  soft  and  gray  and  comfortable,  but  well 
made,  like  everything  she  wore.  Her  father  looked  at 
her  with  loving  admiration  in  his  eyes.  '  What  a  nice 
thing  that  is,  Nell.  I  always  think  you  look  even 
better  in  that  than  in  your  swell  dresses.' 

Helen  passed  her  fingers  through  his  brown  hair 
and  then  bent  down  and  kissed  it.  '  Dear  old  daddy  ! 
you  would  think  I  looked  nice  in  anything.  Father, 
what  are  we  to  do  with  that  horrid  man  ?  Do  you 
think  he  will  stay  long  ? ' 

'  I  don't  know,  Nell.     They  said  a  few  days,  but 


XII  MR.  PITT  WRIGHT  165 

that  may  mean  anything.  I  daresay  we  shall  find 
him  pleasant  enough.     We  must  not  be  inhospitable.' 

'I  don't  want  to  be  inhospitable,  daddy;  but  it 
does  irritate  me  so.  They  are  all  alike.  They  just 
use  your  house  like  a  hotel,  and  they  seem  to  think 
you  have  nothing  in  the  world  to  do  but  to  amuse 
them.  I  am  not  going  to  have  you  wasting  your 
time  upon  him,  and  then  sitting  up  half  the  night 
working  to  make  up  for  it.' 

'  Don't,  Nell ;  I  don't  like  it.  It  is  a  nuisance, 
of  course ;  but  you  must  be  civil  to  a  man  in  your 
own  house,  and  they  don't  understand.  I  daresay 
they  think  we  are  paid  for  it ;  and  they  have  not 
the  least  idea  what  the  work  is  in  India.' 

'I  expect  they  understand  well  enough,  but  they 
don't  care.  So  long  as  they  get  all  they  wa^t,  it 
does  not  matter  to  them  what  trouble  it  costs.  One 
never  realises  how  detestable  Englishmen  can  be  till 
one  sees  them  travelling.' 

'  Nell,  Nell,  you  really  are  not  fair.  Some  of  them 
are  capital  fellows.  Who  could  have  been  nicer  than 
young  Wenley  last  year  ? ' 

'  Yes.     I  liked  him ;  but  very  few  are  like  that.' 

'  Well,  a  good  many  of  them  do  seem  to  leave  their 
manners  in  the  Suez  Canal ;  but,  after  all,  it  is  natural 
enough.  They  feel  that  they  are  in  a  strange  country 
where  nobody  knows  them,  and  so  they  don't  much 
care  what  they  do.  I  remember  having  that  feeling 
myself  when  I  first  came  out.     You  must  settle  down 


i66  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

into  your  place  and  get  to  know  people  round  you 
before  you  care  for  their  opinion.' 

'  I  daresay,  father ;  but  I  am  certain  you  always 
behaved  like  a  gentleman.  They  don't  behave  like 
gentlemen,  many  of  them.  There's  no  excuse  for 
that.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  put  his  hand  on  his  daughter's : 
'  Never  mind,  Nell.  Let's  talk  of  something  pleasanter 
than  T.  G's.     How  did  Sultan  go  this  evening  ? ' 

Helen  shook  off  her  little  trouble  with  an  effort, 
and  the  two  were  soon  chatting  happily  about  other 
matters. 

By  seven  o'clock  next  morning  Colonel  Treveryan 
had  finished  his  early  tea  and  was  at  his  work. 
Helen  came  out  a  couple  of  hours  later,  looking  as 
fresh  and  bright  as  if  she  had  never  left  England. 
She  had  not  yet  fallen  into  the  bad  Indian  habit 
of  early  rising,  which  is  responsible  for  more  illness 
than  anything  else  in  the  country. 

She  and  her  father  sat  down  to  breakfast,  and 
finished  it  alone.  A  servant  was  sent  to  inquire 
whether  their  visitor  would  have  anything  in  his 
room,  but  the  answer  was  that  he  would  come  out 
soon.  It  was  past  eleven  before  he  appeared,  and 
Colonel  Treveryan,  after  waiting  some  little  time,  had 
gone  to  his  office.  Helen  had  finished  her  morn- 
ing interview  with  the  servants,  had  taken  some 
breakfast  to  Jacko  the  monkey  and  was  looking  after 
her  bifds,  when  Mr.  Pitt  Wright  walked  out  of  his 


XII  MR.  PITT  WRIGHT  167 

rooms  into  the  hall.  Her  hands  were  full,  but  she 
smiled  a  bright  good  morning  to  him.  She  had 
reproached  herself  while  she  was  dressing  for  her 
rather  hasty  condemnation  of  the  night  before,  and 
had  determined  to  make  things  as  pleasant  as  she 
could.  '  I  hope  you  are  rested,'  she  said.  '  Did  you 
sleep  well  ? ' 

'No.  I  can't  say  I  did.  Some  confounded  dogs 
were  howling  all  night  and  kept  me  awake.' 

'I  am  very  sorry.  The  pariah  dogs  do  make  a 
noise  sometimes  at  night,  and  it  worries  one  till  one 
gets  accustomed  to  it.  You  must  have  a  quiet  day. 
Now  you  must  want  your  breakfast.' 

She  took  him  into  the  dining-room  and  poured 
out  his  tea  for  him,  and  sat  with  him  while  he  ate 
his  meal.  He  seemed  to  enjoy  it,  and  talked  agreeably 
enough,  in  a  rather  irritating  free-and-easy  way,  until 
it  was  over.  When  he  had  done,  he  took  out  his 
cigarette-case.  Helen  got  up.  *I  will  leave  you 
to  have  your  cigarette,'  she  said.  'My  father  said 
I  was  to  tell  you  that  you  are  to  order  the  carriage 
when  you  want  it ;  and  if  you  want  to  speak  to  him 
about  anything,  I  am  to  let  him  know.' 

'  Oh,  don't  go.     What  is  your  father  doing  ? ' 

'He  is  in  his  office-room  trying  cases,  I  think. 
He  is  dreadfully  hard-worked  always.' 

Mr.  Pitt  Wright  was  examining  his  cigarette,  which 
had  got  a  little  flattened,  and  gently  coaxing  it  into 
shape.       '  Is    he,    really  ? '    he    said    carelessly.       '  I 


1 68  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

thought  he  was  a  great  swell,  and  had  lots  of 
fellows  to  devil  for  him.  Look  here,  don't  you  go. 
I  know  you've  nothing  to  do,  anyhow.  Come  and 
talk  to  me  while  I  have  a  smoke.  You  won't  have 
one  yourself  ? ' 

He  had  remained  seated  when  she  rose,  and  his 
manner  was  very  much  the  manner  of  our  golden 
youth  towards  a  barmaid.  Helen's  head  went  up, 
and  her  temper  began  to  get  the  better  of  her ;  but 
she  tried  not  to  show  it.  '  I  can't  stop  now/  she  said, 
and  walked  out  of  the  room.  Her  guest  looked  at 
her  and  laughed  in  a  rather  embarrassed  way. 

'  Don't  be  cross.  Please  come  back.  I  shall  be 
miserable  if  you  don't.  It's  very  rude  to  leave  me 
all  alone.' 

Helen  returned  to  her  birds,  but  the  brightness 
had  gone  out  of  her  face.  She  stood  in  the  hall 
for  a  second,  and  a  hot  flush  rose  over  her  cheek  and 
neck.  '  If  it  were  not  for  father,'  she  thought  to 
herself,  'how  I  should  love  to  have  it  out  with 
him.'  Then  she  pulled  herself  up.  '  How  silly  I  am 
to  be  troubled  by  it.  I  won't  let  him  worry  me  any 
more.     But  he  is  not  a  gentleman.' 

For  the  next  week  Helen  succeeded  in  avoiding 
any  unpleasantness,  but  Pitt  Wright  was  a  great 
nuisance.  He  had  nothing  on  earth  to  do  apparently 
and  took  no  interest  in  anything,  so  that  it  was 
hard  to  amuse  him.  Colonel  Treveryan  took  him 
out    snipe  -  shooting    one    day,    and    he    shot    rather 


XII  MR.  PITT  WRIGHT  169 

well ;  but  tie  disliked  getting  his  feet  wet,  and 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  snipe-shooting  was  not 
good  enough.  Then  the  hospitable  Colonel,  with  a 
pang  of  regret,  mounted  him  for  a  day's  pig-sticking. 
He  did  not  ride  badly,  but  he  got  flurried  and 
very  nearly  came  to  grief  over  a  jinking  boar,  and 
then  he  laid  the  blame  on  Eemus.  The  horse  funked, 
he  said,  and  put  him  off.  Funked !  Eemus,  who 
loved  the  sport,  and  would  have  carried  his  master 
straight  at  the  biggest  pair  of  tushes  that  ever 
gleamed.  On  other  days  Pitt  Wright  loafed  about 
the  house  smoking,  or  drove  over  to  cantonments. 
He  had  struck  up  an  acquaintance  with  Denham, 
and  would  sometimes  go  and  lunch  or  dine  with 
him,  ordering  a  horse  or  a  carriage  and  keeping 
it  out  for  any  length  of  time  without  the  smallest 
consideration  for  man  or  beast.  Sometimes  he  went 
to  the  Club  in  the  afternoon  for  a  rubber,  but  not 
often ;  and  as  he  did  not  play  tennis  he  did  not 
care  to  go  in  the  evening,  and  Colonel  Treveryan 
gave  up  playing.  He  would  not  call  on  any  one 
in  the  Civil  station;  not  even  on  the  Lees,  though 
Lee  had  taken  a  good  deal  of  trouble  in  helping 
him  to  see  some  sport,  and  every  one  was  ready 
to  be  hospitable.  '  What  is  the  use,'  he  said,  '  of 
calling  on  a  lot  of  people  I  shall  never  see  again, 
and  never  want  to  ? '  Altogether  Helen  fairly  longed 
to  see  the  last  of  him.  After  the  first  day  he  was 
perhaps  a  little  more  careful  in  his  manner  towards 


I70  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

her,  but  it  was  always  more  familiar  than  she 
liked. 

So  things  went  on  for  three  weeks,  and  Pitt 
"Wright  had  shown  no  sign  of  going.  Then  one 
morning  at  breakfast  came  a  letter  to  say  that  his 
shooting-party  had  been  put  off,  and  was  not  to 
begin  until  the  1st  of  February.  '  Well,  I'm  hanged,' 
he  said,  reading  his  letter  with  a  face  of  disgust. 
'That  is  too  bad.  I  have  been  waiting  for  those 
fellows  a  month  already,  and  now  I  shall  have  to 
kick  my  heels  for  another  fortnight,  just  because 
some  silly  old  Colonel  won't  give  some  of  them 
leave.  It  doesn't  seem  to  occur  to  them  that  my 
time  is  limited.  I  must  get  away  by  the  middle 
of  February.  I  expect  it  will  be  beastly  hot  in 
the  Eed  Sea  even  then.  I  shall  write  to  the 
Viceroy's  people  and  have  them  stirred  up.  Confound 
them ! ' 

Helen  sat  looking  at  the  table,  with  her  mouth 
set.  Colonel  Treveryan  answered  quietly :  'It  is 
disappointing,  but  I  expect  they  can't  help  it,  and 
you  will  have  time  enough.  I  daresay  the  shooting 
will  be  all  the  better  for  being  a  bit  later.  I  wish 
we  could  find  something  for  you  to  do  meanwhile.' 

Pitt  Wright  dimly  recognised  that  he  had  not 
been  very  gracious.  '  Oh,  it  isn't  that,'  he  said ; 
'  I  am  perfectly  comfortable  here,  and  I'm  much 
obliged  to  you  for  putting  me  up.  Only,  I  don't 
like  staying  for  ever,  you  know.' 


XII  MR.  PITT  WRIGHT  171 

'  My  dear  fellow,  please  don't  think  of  that.  We 
are  very  glad  to  keep  yon  as  long  as  yon  like 
to  stay.' 

So  the  nnbidden  gnest  remained  at  Syntia,  hardly 
concealing  his  weariness  and  impatience  to  be  gone. 


CHAPTER    XIII 


THE  DIE  IS  CAST 


DuEiNG  all  this  time  Guy  Langley  had  seen  much  less 
of  Helen,  and  he  was  concerned  at  the  deprivation. 
It  troubled  him  greatly  when  she  failed  to  appear  at 
the  tennis-ground  in  the  evenings.  It  troubled  him 
still  more  to  know  that  she  was  driving  or  riding  with 
Pitt  Wright,  even  though  her  father  was  with  them. 
He  would  have  been  pleased  if  he  had  known  how  she 
disliked  the  duty ;  and  he  might  have  guessed  it  from 
her  evident  pleasure  when  at  times  she  did  break 
away ;  but  a  man  in  love  is  never  reasonable.  The 
net  result  was  that  he  saw  less  of  her,  and  knew  she 
was  constantly  with  some  one  else.  It  seemed  odd  to 
him  that  Pitt  "Wright  should  stay  so  long  except  for 
one  reason.  Guy  was  getting  sore  and  jealous.  It 
was  not  surprising.  Helen  controlled  her  dislike 
bravely,  for  her  father's  sake,  and  she  said  nothing  to 
others  against  her  guest.  They  seemed  to  be  on  the 
best  of  terms. 

One    Saturday    night    before    dinner,    when    Guy 
walked  into  the  anteroom  of  the  mess  rather  early, 


CHAP.  XIII  THE  DIE  IS  CAST  173 

intending  to  spend  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  reading  a 
magazine  article  which  he  had  begun,  he  found  Pitt 
Wright  sitting  near  the  fireplace.  He  had  come  to 
dine  with  Denham,  who  was  also  there.  As  Guy  came 
in,  the  two  were  laughing,  and  he  heard  Denham  say : 
'  You  had  better  bolt  before  it  is  too  late.  She  is  a 
determined  young  woman.'  The  conversation  was 
interrupted  by  Guy's  entrance,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
several  other  men  came  in ;  but  during  dinner  Guy 
could  not  get  those  words  out  of  his  head.  He  spoke 
little,  and  ate  less,  and  looked  so  glum  that  St.  Orme, 
who  was  sitting  next  him,  attacked  him  on  the  subject. 

'  What  the  devil  is  the  matter  with  you  ? '  St. 
Orme  asked  in  his  fine,  slow,  rolling  voice,  after  several 
attempts  had  failed.  '  You  look  as  if  you  were  going 
to  be  shot,  or  married,  or  something.  By  JovCf  I 
believe  that's  it.  A  ses  heaux  yeux  I '  and  he  drained 
his  glass. 

Guy  flushed  guiltily,  and  Chimp's  ringing  '  Ha  !  ha  ! ' 
by  his  side  irritated  him ;  but  the  words  made  him 
rouse  himself,  and  for  the  rest  of  dinner  he  was  less 
silent.     Unfortunately  the  provocation  soon  recurred. 

There  was  a  very  small  party  at  mess  that  night, 
and  Pitt  Wright  was  the  only  stranger.  When  the 
cigar-box  came  round,  several  of  those  who  had  dined 
went  off;  some  of  them  were  going  to  drive  out  to 
camp  for  a  day's  shooting.  Guy  was  listening  to  a 
story  of  St.  Orme's  about  an  adventure  of  his  in 
Egypt.     St.  Orme  had  seen  some  odd  things,  and  his 


174  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

stories,  told  in  his  swaggering  manner,  were  amusing 
enough.  Suddenly  Guy  canght  a  few  words  which 
made  him  start.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  table,  a 
few  places  from  him,  Denham  and  Pitt  Wright  were 
smoking  cigarettes.  Pitt  Wright  was  sitting  back  in 
his  chair  with  a  self-satisfied  smile,  and  Denham  was 
leaning  with  his  elbow  on  the  table  talking  in  a  low 
voice.  During  a  momentary  pause,  Guy  heard  him 
say  :  '  My  dear  fellow,  any  one  can  see  the  girl  is  hard 
hit.  You  have  taken  our  one  ewe  lamb,  like  the 
beggar  in  the  Bible.' 

For  the  life  of  him  Guy  could  not  have  helped 
listening  to  the  answer.  '  Well,  she  certainly  is  getting 
rather  affectionate.  I  think  it's  about  time  I  cleared 
out.'  Denham  laughed  at  the  lie,  a  sneering  con- 
temptuous laugh,  though  the  lie  was  of  his  own  mak- 
ing. Guy's  heart  sank,  and  he  felt  as  if  he  could 
have  killed  the  man  who  was  smiling  opposite  to  him ; 
but  what  he  had  heard  none  the  less  smote  him  with 
a  conviction  of  truth.  He  sat  through  the  remainder 
of  St.  Orme's  story  with  a  dull  pain  gnawing  at  his 
heart ;  and  directly  the  story  was  ended  he  got  up. 

'  Well,  I'm  off  now,'  he  said ;  '  I  am  not  very  fit  to- 
night and  must  turn  in  early,'  and  he  walked  out  into 
the  air. 

St.  Orme  looked  after  him  curiously,  and  then 
yawned,  twisted  up  his  moustache,  and  strolled 
into  the  anteroom.  He  did  not  like  Denham  or  Pitt 
Wright,  and  as  he  turned  he  looked  over  them  with 


XIII  THE  DIE  IS  CAST  175 

an  open  insolent  contempt  which  both  saw  and  re- 
sented. They  spoke  evil  of  him  when  he  was  out  of 
hearing,  and  he  said  to  himself :  '  Little  cads,  those 
two.'  He  would  have  preferred  saying  it  aloud ;  but 
one  cannot  say  all  one  thinks. 

Guy  walked  across  to  his  quarters  and  dropped 
into  a  long  cane  chair  in  the  sitting-room  which  he 
shared  with  Dale.  He  felt  a  burning  hatred  for  Pitt 
Wright,  and  some  indignation  against  Helen  herself. 
'  They  are  all  alike/  he  thought,  as  he  called  to  mind 
how  little  he  had  seen  her  of  late.  '  She  knows  the 
brute's  got  money  and  chucks  me  over  like  an  old 
glove.'  It  did  not  occur  to  his  mind  that  she  had 
never  professed  any  love  for  him,  and  that  he  had 
never  asked  her  for  it. 

Dale  was  absent.  He  had  gone  over  to  ]VIj:s. 
Dangerfield's  after  dinner.  She  had  asked  them  both, 
but  Guy  would  not  go  when  the  time  came.  It  was 
rather  unlucky  for  Guy's  peace  of  mind.  He  was  in 
a  humour  when  a  longing  for  sympathy  might  have 
been  too  strong  for  his  reserve ;  and,  if  he  had  spoken 
to  his  friend.  Dale's  breezy  common  sense  and  belief 
in  him  would  have  swept  away  the  mist.  As  it  was, 
Guy  sat  alone  smoking  and  drinking  whisky  and  soda- 
water,  and  brooding  in  silence,  for  an  hour  or  more. 

Nevertheless,  as  he  sat,  a  feeling  gradually  came  to 
him  that  after  all  he  was  perhaps  distressing  himself 
unnecessarily.  Denham's  assertion  and  Pitt  Wright's 
reply  might  be  quite  untrue.     The   one   might  have 


176  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

been  more  chaff  than  earnest,  and  the  other  merely  the 
conceited  boast  of  a  flattered  man.  How  often  he  had 
heard  chaff  of  the  kind  before  and  attached  no  import- 
ance to  it.  His  mind  swayed  this  way  and  that  in 
alternations  of  fear  and  hope,  but  gradually  the  hope 
became  more  definite.  *  Anyhow,  I  will  go  over  and 
settle  it  one  way  or  another,'  he  said  to  himself  at  last. 
'  Anything  is  better  than  this.'  Even  then  Guy  did 
not  put  clearly  before  himself  the  idea  of  marriage. 
He  was  only  filled  with  desire  to  know  that  Helen 
loved  him.  It  would  be  enough  for  the  present  if  he 
could  make  certain  that  Pitt  Wright  had  been  lying, 
and  that  he  himself  was  dear  to  her.  If  he  had  been 
older,  he  might  perhaps  have  been  more  cautious  and 
have  thought  it  all  out  more  definitely  before  acting, 
but  he  was  young  and  reckless.  It  did  not  occur  to 
him  that  if  he  married  Helen  he  would  be  throwing 
himself  away,  or  that  any  one  could  think  so.  Few 
men  are  snobs  at  three -and -twenty.  He  did  not 
entertain  any  exaggerated  idea  of  his  own  value ;  and 
if  he  thought  of  his  own  people  at  all,  he  thought  they 
had  only  to  see  her.  But,  in  truth,  he  hardly  thought 
of  them  yet.  With  all  his  indolence,  perhaps  because 
of  it,  his  natural  tendency  was  to  act  without  troubling 
himself  much  beforehand  as  to  the  opinion  of  others. 
In  a  few  words  he  was  young  and  in  love,  and  he  was 
goaded  by  jealousy.  Who  stops  to  think  it  all  out  at 
his  age?  Have  we  not  life  before  us,  and  strong 
hands  and  hot  hearts  ? 


XIII  THE  DIE  IS  CAST  177 

Guy  was  happier  when  he  had  made  up  his  mind. 
He  straightened  himself  in  his  chair  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  and  called  for  another  '  peg '  in  a  voice  that  was 
no  longer  despairing.  Then  he  got  into  bed  and  fell 
asleepf  dreaming  of  love  and  happiness. 

In  the  small  hours  of  the  morning  Dale  arrived. 
He  had  walked  home  after  a  merry  evening  and 
supper.  The  servants  were  rolled  up  on  the  floor  in  the 
back  verandah,  fast  asleep,  and  the  lamp  in  the  sitting- 
room  had  burnt  itself  out.  Dale  felt  his  way  cautiously 
across  to  the  door  of  his  own  room  with  his  hands  in 
front  of  him;  but  he  stumbled  over  the  wooden  arm 
of  Guy's  long  chair,  upon  which  Guy  had  left  his 
empty  tumbler.  This  fell  on  the  edge  of  the  seat  and 
broke,  and  Dale  swore.  The  shiver  of  glass  woke 
Guy  up,  and  he  heard  Dale  grope  his  way  intg  the 
next  room.  A  miserable  sense  of  something  being 
wrong  came  upon  him,  and  looking  into  his  memory 
he  recalled  Pitt  Wright's  words.  The  sudden  remem- 
brance made  him  groan  and  turn  upon  his  bed  in  a 
torture  of  jealous  wretchedness.  Then  his  mind  rapidly 
recaught  the  line  of  thought  which  had  comforted  him 
before,  and  he  felt  better  again.  After  that  he  began 
to  tell  himself  that  things  always  looked  black  at 
night,  and  that  all  would  be  brighter  in  the  morning. 
The  thought  of  the  day,  with  its  sunshine  and  action, 
soothed  him,  and  he  fell  asleep.  When  he  finally 
woke  at  eight  o'clock,  he  did  so  with  a  beating  heart 
and  a  sense  of  excitement;  but  the  excitement  was 

VOL.  I  N 


178  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

not  altogether  unpleasing.  His  natural  hopefulness 
had  come  to  his  rescue. 

It  was  Dale's  turn  for  church  parade,  which  Guy 
was  not  sorry  for ;  and  he  drove  off  alone  after  break- 
fast to  the  Civil  station.  The  cold  weather  was  lasting 
well  and  the  air  was  still  pleasant,  but  the  sun  was 
strong  and  the  little  church  felt  cool  and  refreshing. 
He  was  just  in  time,  and  as  he  took  his  seat  he 
noticed  with  satisfaction  that  his  enemy  was  not  in 
the  Commissioner's  pew.  Colonel  Treveryan  was 
sitting  in  it  alone.  '  I'm  glad  the  brute  isn't  there,' 
Guy  thought  in  a  truly  Christian  spirit.  Then  it 
suddenly  struck  him  that  Helen  might  have  stayed  at 
home  too,  and  he  looked  round  at  the  gallery.  No, 
she  was  there  all  right.  He  caught  her  eyes,  and  it 
made  his  heart  jump.  He  turned  round  hastily,  and 
did  not  see  the  blush  that  sprang  to  her  face.  Hunter 
saw  it  and  smiled  to  himself. 

The  prayers  seemed  long  that  morning,  and  the 
sermon  longer.  At  times  Guy  caught  Helen's  voice  in 
the  singing ;  it  was  his  only  pleasure  during  the 
service.  At  last  it  ended,  and  he  was  able  to  go  out- 
side and  await  her.  When  she  came  down  from  the 
gallery  and  saw  him,  there  was  something  in  his  face 
which  attracted  her  attention  at  once.  It  was  a  look 
of  inquiry  and  eagerness  which  was  unusual  to  him. 
He  was  embarrassed,  and  his  embarrassment  com- 
municated itself  to  her.  However,  this  was  only 
momentary.      They  had   hardly  shaken   hands  when 


XIII  THE  DIE  IS  CAST  179 

they  were  joined  by  Colonel  Treveryan,  who  had  been 
talking  to  Mrs.  Hunter.  *  Good  morning,  Langley,'  he 
said.     '  Are  you  coming  over  to  lunch  ? ' 

'  I  shall  be  very  glad,  if  you  will  have  me.' 

'That's  right.     Is  Dale  coming  too  ?' 

'  No,  Colonel,  he  is  on  duty  to-day.' 

'  Come  along  with  us  then,  and  tell  your  man  to 
bring  your  trap  round.' 

Guy  followed  Helen  into  the  Treveryans'  carriage, 
which  was  open,  and  drove  up  with  them.  Helen  was 
looking  very  bright  and  happy,  with  a  warm  colour  in 
her  face;  and  as  he  sat  opposite,  her  dress  touching 
him  and  her  sweet  eyes  looking  straight  into  his  when 
she  spoke,  he  wished  the  drive  were  ten  miles  long. 
When  they  got  near  the  house  Colonel  Treveryan 
said  :  '  I  am  going  on  if  you  will  excuse  me.  I  want 
to  see  Oldham,  and  he  was  not  in  church.  I  shall  be 
back  in  half  an  hour.  Shall  I  bring  him  over  to 
lunch,  Nell  ? ' 

'Yes,  do,  father.  Tell  him  it  is  my  order.  We 
have  not  seen  him  for  a  week.' 

Guy  and  Helen  got  out  of  the  carriage,  and  walked 
up  the  steps.  At  the  top,  between  the  pillars  of  the 
porch,  they  found  Pitt  Wright  sitting  in  an  easy  chair 
smoking  a  cigarette.  He  had  been  reading  some 
papers,  which  were  lying  about  on  the  matting.  He 
nodded  slightly  to  Guy,  and,  without  any  attempt  to 
rise  from  his  chair,  said  to  Helen  :  '  Well,  did  the  little 
Padre  give  you  a  good  sermon  ?' 


i8o  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

'  Yes,  very  good/  she  said,  and  was  passing  on  into 
the  hall  when  he  lazily  put  out  his  hand  over  the  arm 
of  his  chair  as  if  to  stop  her. 

'Don't  go,'  he  said  in  his  throaty  voice.  'Come 
and  sit  down,  and  tell  me  all  about  it.' 

Helen  moved  aside.  '  I  must  go  and  take  my 
things  off '  was  all  she  said  in  answer ;  but  the  tone  of 
her  voice  pleased  Guy  in  the  midst  of  his  wrath.  He 
would  not  trust  himself  to  stay  outside  with  Pitt 
Wright,  and  he  followed  her  into  the  hall,  passing 
straight  through  to  the  drawing  -  room  as  she  disap- 
peared into  her  own  rooms  to  the  right.  He  had  not 
waited  long  when  she  came  back.  Something  in  her  face 
and  carriage  emboldened  him,  and  he  said :  '  Let  us  go 
and  sit  in  the  south  verandah.     It  is  pleasanter  there.' 

She  looked  back  through  the  hall  to  where  Pitt 
Wright  was  sitting;  then  she  turned  and  walked 
through  the  dining-room.  As  they  came  into  the 
verandah  Guy  said  to  her,  'How  long  is  Mr.  Pitt 
Wright  going  to  stay  ?' 

The  answer  was  emphatic.  '  He  is  going  to- 
morrow, thank  goodness.' 

'  Then  you  don't  like  him  ?' 

'  Like  him ! '  she  said,  with  a  flushing  cheek  and 
something  very  like  a  stamp  of  the  little  foot.  'Like 
him  !  I  detest  him  and  his  insolent  ways.  He  would 
never  dare  to  behave  in  England  as  he  does  out  here. 
Oh,  if  only  he  were  not  in  our  house  and  I  were  not 
obliged  to  stand  it !' 


XIII  THE  DIE  IS  CAST  i8i 

Guy's  delight  only  gave  tlie  spur  to  his  indignation. 
'  I  am  not  obliged  to  stand  it,'  he  said.  '  Shall  I  take 
him  in  hand  and  give  him  a  kicking?  There  is 
nothing  I  should  like  so  much.'     Guy  was  very  young. 

Helen  was  young  too,  but  she  was  a  woman.  M 
wish  some  one  would/  she  could  not  help  saying ; 
then  she  laughed  and  pulled  herself  up.  '  But  you 
must  not  talk  like  that.  I  daresay  he  means  no  harm. 
It  is  only  that  I  am  not  accustomed  to  be  treated  in 
that  sort  of  way,  and  it  makes  me  lose  my  temper. 
It  is  very  silly  of  me.' 

Guy  was  supremely  happy  in  his  position  of  con- 
fidant. *  Do  hand  him  over  to  me,'  he  said ;  '  I  have 
often  longed  to  have  it  out  with  him  on  my  own 
account.  He's  a  horrid  cad ;  and  I  don't  think  I 
should  have  stood  him  till  now  if  he  had  not  been 
your  guest.' 

Helen  began  to  be  embarrassed  at  Guy's  earnest 
face  and  manner,  and  she  felt  rather  ashamed  of  what 
she  had  said  and  let  him  say.  '  No,  no,  Mr.  Langley,' 
she  answered,  '  you  must  behave  properly.  I  ought 
not  to  have  spoken  like  that.  Please  don't  think 
anything  more  about  it,  or  it  will  make  me  very 
uncomfortable.' 

Guy  could  not  look  into  her  eyes  and  restrain  him- 
self '  I  wish  you  would  give  me  the  right,'  he  began 
in  a  voice  that  was  a  caress. 

With  all  her  innocence  Helen  understood  now,  and 
she  interrupted  him  hastily.       She  was  not  prepared 


1 82  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

for  this,  and  not  quite  in  a  humour  for  it.  It  startled 
her  at  the  moment  more  than  it  pleased  her.  There 
were  so  many  people  about.  The  servants  were 
walking  in  and  out  of  the  dining-room  behind  them ; 
and  everything  was  so  public.  It  was  a  relief  to  her 
to  see  at  this  moment  Goldney's  dog-cart  coming  up 
the  drive.  '  Oh,  there  is  Mr.  Goldney,'  she  said,  as  if 
she  had  not  heard ;  '  I  suppose  he  is  coming  to  lunch. 
I  must  go  in.'  Guy  was  only  incited  by  the  check. 
'  Stay  one  minute,'  he  said,  but  she  walked  on  into  the 
dining-room.  As  she  did  so  he  remembered  that  it 
was  his  only  chance  for  the  day.  In  the  afternoon 
there  would  be  the  usual  gathering  for  tea,  and  then 
church  again.  Guy  was  desperate.  '  Miss  Treveryan,' 
he  said,  as  he  walked  in  with  her,  '  I  must  speak  to 
you.  I  shall  come  to-morrow.'  Her  only  answer  was 
a  burning  blush,  which  covered  her  cheeks  and  fore- 
head and  ears  as  she  turned  to  meet  her  visitors. 
Guy  could  see  it  mantling  into  her  bright  brown  hair 
at  the  nape  of  her  neck.  Goldney  saw  it  too.  He 
was  a  little  surprised  at  the  warmth  of  his  welcome, 
but  he  was  not  deceived  by  it.  It  was  a  warmth 
born  of  embarrassment,  as  he  guessed  with  a  pang  at 
his  heart. 

A  few  minutes  later  Colonel  Treveryan  arrived, 
bringing  the  judge  with  him,  and  then  the  luncheon 
gong  sounded.  During  the  meal  Guy  did  not  speak 
to  Helen.  Oldham  and  Pitt  Wright  sat  next  her,  and 
she  talked  to  the  former.     But  there  were  only  six  of 


XIII  THE  DIE  IS  CAST  183 

them,  and  once  or  twice  the  talk  became  general. 
Once  he  met  her  eyes,  and  again  she  blushed  crimson. 
He  saw  that  it  distressed  her,  and  he  refrained  from 
speaking  to  her  any  more.  Directly  after  lunch  she 
left  them.  Guy  could  not  resist  stopping  till  tea-time, 
but  it  was  useless ;  and  when  the  gathering  began  he 
ordered  his  dog- cart.  She  shook  hands  with  him  when 
he  went,  and  their  eyes  met  again.  Guy  knew  then 
that  she  was  not  angry  with  him,  but  she  had  cut  short 
his  offer,  and  he  knew  no  more. 

As  he  drove  home  he  felt  disappointed,  but  he  was 
not  altogether  unhappy.  At  all  events,  Helen  did  not 
care  for  Pitt  Wright.  That  maddening  doubt  had 
been  laid.  Did  she  care  for  him  ?  She  had  not 
shown  much  sign  of  it,  but  he  had  hopes.  It  was 
clumsy  of  him  to  spring  a  mine  upon  her  like  Xhat. 
Perhaps  if  he  had  had  a  quiet  chance  it  would  have 
been  all  right.  At  all  events,  he  was  now  determined 
to  know.     The  next  day  should  decide. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

SUSPENSE 

Dale  had  spent  a  fairly  cheerful   day  during  Guy's 

absence.     He  had  done  his  duty  in  the  morning,  and 

had  then  gone  over  and  called  upon  his  Colonel's  wife 

and  tried  to  play  with  Mabs,  but  Mabs  had  rather 

snubbed  him.     She  had  not  much  respect  for  Chimp. 

After  that  he  had  taken  his  cheery  smile  on  to  Mrs. 

Dangerfield's,  and  joined  her  lunch  party.      She  asked 

him  where  Guy  was. 

'  Gone  over  to  church  at  the  Civil  station.' 

'As    usual.      We    shall    have    him    reading    the 

lessons  soon.     And  on  to  lunch  at  the  Treveryans', 

I  suppose  ?' 

'I  expect  so.      He   said  he  should   stay  if   they 

asked  him.' 

'That  girl  is  a  nuisance.     I  wish  she  would  take 

the  little  "  Pink  'un"  and  leave  you  boys  in  peace.' 
'  She  is  a  jolly  girl  all  the  same.' 
'  I  daresay,  but  she  is  poaching,  and  I  object.' 
'  I  am  afraid  it's  no  use,  Mrs.  Dangerfield.      Guy 

can  be  pretty  obstinate  when  he  chooses.' 


CHAP.  XIV 


SUSPENSE  185 


'  Well,  there  are  some  more  of  you,  that's  one  com- 
fort ;  only  he  was  about  the  best.  I  am  sorry  he  has 
taken  to  evil  courses.' 

Dale  did  not  answer,  and  the  subject  dropped. 

After  a  very  merry  lunch  the  party  broke  up.  For 
a  wonder  Dale  had  been  tempted  to  drink  some  cham- 
pagne, a  ruinous  thing  to  do  in  India  in  the  middle  of 
the  day,  and  he  felt  lazy  and  bored.  He  strolled  over 
to  his  quarters  and  sat  down  in  Guy's  long  chair, 
with  his  little  muscular  legs  up  on  the  projecting 
arms. 

His  dog  Jock  came  in  from  the  compound,  where 
he  had  been  chasing  a  squirrel.  Jock  was  a  queer- 
looking  beast.  Dale  had  bought  him  as  a  puppy 
under  the  belief  that  he  was  going  to  be  a  fox-terrier ; 
but  long  before  he  was  full-grown  it  became  ^lear 
that  something  had  gone  wrong.  He  was  leggy,  and 
his  coat  was  rougher  and  thinner  than  a  fox-terrier's 
has  any  right  to  be.  You  could  see  the  spots  on  the 
skin  below.  His  manners,  too,  bore  unmistakable 
mark  of  a  plebeian  origin.  They  were  the  manners  of 
the  immortal  Crab;  he  never  could  be  taught  the 
least  respect  for  capons  or  farthingales.  At  this 
moment  Jock  was  covered  with  yellow  dust,  and  Dale 
told  him  he  was  a  dirty  little  devil,  and  tried  to  make 
him  lie  down  on  the  floor,  which  he  declined  to  do. 
He  was  a  republican  sort  of  dog,  affectionate  enough 
in  his  own  way,  but  thoroughly  disobedient.  If  he 
did  not  approve  of  your  orders  he  trotted  off  quietly. 


i86  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

and  went  to  stay  with  a  friend  until  you  were  in  a 
more  reasonable  frame  of  mind.  Sometimes  he  would 
stay  away  a  day  or  two. 

For  a  few  minutes  Dale  sat  quiet,  cogitating  upon 
the  nature  of  dogs  in  general  and  fox-terriers  in  par- 
ticular. He  still  regarded  Jock  as  a  fox-terrier. 
'  Eummy  little  beggars/  he  thought  to  himself,  '  always 
chivvying  something.  Wonder  why  they  can't  leave 
squirrels  and  things  alone.'  Then  it  gradually  dawned 
upon  him  that  he  was  always  chivvying  something 
too.  '  I'm  blest  if  we're  not  rather  like  that  ourselves. 
Small  blame  to  us  either.  Life  would  not  be  much 
good  if  there  were  no  sport  to  be  got.' 

Abstruse  thought,  however,  was  not  Dale's  line,  and 
he  looked  round  the  room  for  something  to  amuse  him. 
His  eye  fell  on  a  small  square  table,  upon  which  lay 
a  pile  of  Guy's  books.  It  was  within  reach,  and 
he  pulled  it  towards  his  chair,  and  turned  over  the 
volumes. 

*  Poetry  books,'  he  said  to  himself,  with  a  face  of 
disgust.  'I  can't  make  Guy  out.  He  can  shoot  and 
ride  and  play  polo  and  all  that,  so  it's  not  as  if  he  was- 
an  ass  and  fit  for  nothing  else ;  and  yet  he  will  sit 
reading  this  rot  by  the  hour  together.'  Chimp  was  not 
born  under  a  rhyming  planet. 

He  took  up  a  copy  of  Wordsworth,  and  opened  it 
at  random,  and  turned  over  a  page  or  two  until  he 
came  to  a  passage  Guy  had  marked.  Chimp  read  it 
out  aloud — 


XIV  SUSPENSE  187 

A  violet  by  a  mossy  stone, 
Half-hidden  from  the  eye  ; 
Fair  as  a  star,  when  only  one 
Is  shining  in  the  sky. 

*  That  is  rather  jolly/  he  said.  He  read  the  pre- 
ceding verse,  and  then  the  last.     The  closing  lines  he 

repeated — 

But  she  is  in  her  grave,  and  0  ! 
The  difference  to  me  ! 

'  "Well,  I  suppose,  that  would  make  one  feel  a  bit 
cheap,  but  I  don't  see  many  points  in  it  all  the  same 
— as  poetry.  There's  no  go  about  it.  Besides,  any 
fool  could  say  a  thing  like  that.'  After  this  he 
looked  at  Harry  Gill,  but  Wordsworth  did  not  suit 
him.  '  Drivel,'  he  said,  as  he  put  it  down,  and  opened 
Shelley.  The  volume  was  scored  in  all  directions  by 
Guy's  pencil  -  marks,  but  to  Chimp's  mind  Guy's 
admiration  was  not  comprehensible.  He  looked  at 
bits  of  The  Skylark,  and  The  Cloud,  and  other  marked 
pieces. 

The  desire  of  the  moth  for  the  star, 

Of  the  night  for  the  morrow, 

The  devotion  to  something  afar 

From  the  sphere  of  our  sorrow. 

'  Very  pretty,  I  daresay.  I  don't  see  the  force  of 
it  myself.  Milton, — oh,  that's  the  old  bird  who 
wrote  the  Allegro,  that  they  made  us  learn  at  Bob 
Sayers's  before  I  went  to  Harrow.  There  it  is,  by 
Jove !     How  I  hated  it,  and  the  other  thing,  Fenseroso ; 


1 88  HELEN  TREVERYAN  •  chap. 

that  was  worse.  It's  a  beastly  shame  to  make  little 
beggars  of  ten  or  eleven  learn  those  hard  pieces,  all 
full  of  Latin  names  and  things,  when  they  can't 
understand  them.  I  believe  that  is  what  set  me 
against  poetry.  I  daresay  I  should  have  been  no 
end  fond  of  it  if  I  had  had  a  chance.  I  like  really 
good  poetry  awfully  now.' 

But  hark  the  cry  is  Astur,  and  see  the  ranks  divide, 

And  the  great  Lord  of  Luna  comes  with  his — something 

— stride  ; 
Upon  his  ample  shoulders  clangs  loud  the  fourfold  shield, 
And  in  his  hand  the  mighty  brand  that  none  but  he  can 

wield. 

'  That's  the  sort  of  thing.  That  makes  you  sit  up.' 
He  looked  for  a  copy  of  Macaulay,  but  it  was  not 
there.  '  I  know  he  has  got  it,'  Chimp  said ;  '  I  have 
heard  him  spout  it  by  the  yard.'  He  went  back  to 
Milton  with  a  sigh,  and  made  a  heroic  attempt  to 
read  some  of  Paradise  Lost,  but  he  could  not.  He 
found  a  marked  passage  in  Lycidas — 

Fame  is  the  spur  that  the  clear  spirit  doth  raise, 

That  last  infirmity  of  noble  mind, 

To  scorn  delights  and  live  laborious  days. 

'  Oh,  I   daresay,  old    man.     I    think    I    see    you 
scorning  delights  and  living  laborious  days.' 

Were  it  not  better  done  as  others  use, 
To  sport  with  Amaryllis  in  the  shade, 
Or  with  the  tangles  of  Neeera's  hair  ? 

'Beastly    untidy   of   Nesera,  but    that's    more   his 


XIV  SUSPENSE  189 

form  just  now,  poor  old  chap.  It  is  a  dangerous 
game.  If  he  gets  bowled  over,  won't  old  Lady  Mary 
cut  up  rough  neither  ?  She's  a  jolly  girl,  but  I  don't 
expect  she's  got  a  bob ;  and  he  hasn't  got  too  much. 
I  wish  I  could  give  him  some.' 

Chimp  remained  in  a  brown  study  for  a  while, 
thinking  of  his  friend,  and  his  friend's  home  where 
he  had  spent  a  week  the  year  before ;  then  he 
returned  to  his  poetry.  He  opened  Coleridge,  and 
skimmed  through  the  Ancient  Mariner,  and  then  came 
upon  the  Vision  of  Kubla  Khan.  He  read  how 
Coleridge  had  composed  the  poem  in  his  sleep,  and 
how  it  had  been  driven  out  of  his  head  by  the  man 
on  business  from  Porlock.  '  What  a  jolly  lie,'  Chimp 
said ; .  '  I  bet  he  got  stumped,  and  did  not  know  how  to 
finish  it.     Don't  wonder  either.' 

Then  he  tried  Keats,  but  that  was  hopeless.  The 
would-be  classical  pictures  seemed  to  him  eminently 
foolish,  as  indeed  they  were ;  and  he  did  not  care  for 
the  verse.  He  managed  to  read  through  Lamia. 
'  Beastly  shame,'  he  said.  '  Why  couldn't  the  old 
beggar  leave  them  alone  ?  She  was  not  doing  any 
harm,  and  they  were  having  a  real  good  time.  Awful 
hard  luck  on  both  of  them.' 

Chimp  had  reached  the  bottom  of  the  pile  now, 
and  there  he  found  an  unpretending  little  volume  in 
brown.  *  May  as  well  go  right  through,'  he  thought. 
*  Guy  will  laugh  when  I  tell  him  I  have  read  the 
whole    lot.      Gordon, —  Scotchman,  I    suppose.      All 


190  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

about  bonny  lasses  and  wee  bit  bairns.'     He  opened 
tbe  book  and  read  a  marked  passage — 

She  rose  when  I  hit  her,  I  saw  the  stream  glitter, 
A  wide  scarlet  nostril  flashed  close  by  my  knee, 
Between  sky  and  water  the  Clown  came  and  caught  her, 
The  space  that  he  cleared  was  a  caution  to  see. 

'By  George,  that's  something  like.'  He  read 
through  the  piece  with  keen  enjoyment  and  then 
turned  to  the  title-page  again.  '  Gordon, — Adam 
Lindsay  Gordon.  I  remember  now  Guy  asked  me 
whether  I  had  ever  read  it.  That's  a  ripping  piece.' 
He  turned  over  the  leaves  and  found  a  mine  of  wealth 
— the  Sick  Stockrider,  the  Bushranger,  the  Ride  from 
the  Wreck,  Britomarte.  Chimp  was  reading  lialf-aloud 
now,  reading  with  enjoyment  and  enthusiasm.  It 
was  a  full  hour  before  he  put  down  that  delightful 
book — unequal,  even  poor  in  parts,  but  so  full  of 
vigour  and  poetry. 

At  last  he  yawned  and  stretched  himself:  'Done 
the  whole  jolly  lot.  Guy  is  having  a  real  innings 
to-day.     Stayed  to  tea,  I  suppose.' 

It  was  getting  on  towards  evening,  and  Spot,  a 
puppy  of  Guy's  which  was  tied  up  in  the  stables, 
was  making  a  diabolical  noise.  It  had  slept  at 
intervals  during  the  afternoon,  but  was  now  broad 
awake  and  mad  to  get  loose.  Its  occasional  yelps 
had  changed  into  an  almost  ceaseless  paroxysm  of 
shrieking.  Close  by  it  two  syces  slept  unconcernedly, 
rolled  up  in  their  sheets,  and  one  was  quietly  smoking. 


XIV  SUSPENSE  191 

He  felt  neither  pity  nor  annoyance ;  and  the  other 
two  were  in  no  way  disturbed.  Natives  of  India  do 
not  seem  to  mind  any  noise  when  they  are  asleep. 
Those  who  are  awake  never  think  of  moderating  their 
voices  on  account  of  a  sleeper.  Dale  was  not  so 
philosophic.  The  hoarse  yells  of  the  poor  little 
wretch,  as  it  tore  at  its  rope  and  half-strangled  itself, 
were  more  than  he  could  stand ;  and,  moreover,  he 
thought  he  would  go  for  a  ride  before  dinner,  by  way 
of  clearing  his  head.  He  strolled  out  towards  the 
stables  and  ordered  his  horse,  and  let  Spot  loose. 
Jock  had  come  up,  and  the  puppy  immediately  began 
worrying  him,  hanging  on  to  his  ears  and  biting,  till 
he  turned  upon  it  with  a  snarl.  It  looked  surprised, 
and  then  stood  barking  at  him,  with  its  head  down 
between  its  paws.  But  Jock  hated  the  puppy,  .and 
would  not  play. 

When  Dale  had  looked  at  the  horses  he  went  into 
the  house  to  change  his  clothes,  and  thought  no  more 
of  the  little  beast,  which  had  disappeared.  It  came 
into  the  sitting-room  soon  afterwards,  carrying  a  very 
nasty  bone  which  it  dropped  on  the  floor.  The 
draught  was  stirring  the  hanging  corner  of  a  table- 
cloth, which  looked  bright  and  inviting.  Guy  was 
fond  of  pretty  things,  and  had  covered  an  old- 
fashioned  round  table  at  one  side  of  the  room  with  a 
piece  of  embroidered  Delhi  work.  The  puppy  fixed 
his  sharp  little  teeth  in  the  hanging  piece  and  worried 
it  savagely,  backing  across  the  floor  and  shaking  his 


192  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

head.  Before  long  a  book  was  pulled  to  the  edge  of 
the  table  and  fell  on  the  matting  with  a  slap,  which 
startled  the  pnppy  and  made  him  jump  away  with  his 
tail  down.  His  terror,  however,  was  only  momentary. 
He  stood  looking  at  the  book  for  a  second  or  two 
with  his  head  on  one  side,  and  then  came  back  and 
smelt  it.  Apparently  the  result  was  satisfactory,  for 
his  next  move  was  to  lie  down  on  the  floor  and  treat 
the  book  as  a  bone.  He  got  his  side  teeth  well  home 
on  a  corner  of  it,  and  chewed  off  a  bit  of  the  cover, 
leaving  a  very  ragged  edge  and  some  sharp  tooth- 
marks  beyond. 

This  was  the  condition  of  affairs  when  Dale  came 
into  the  room.  The  puppy  looked  up,  with  the  book 
between  his  fore -paws.  Next  moment  he  yelped 
piteously  as  he  was  held  up  by  the  skin  of  the  neck. 
'You  mischievous  little  brute,'  Dale  said,  adminis- 
tering punishment  to  the  small  hanging  shivering 
body.  '  I  can't  leave  you  for  a  minute  without  your 
being  up  to  some  devilry.'     Yelp,  yelp,  yelp ! 

Then  the  sweeper  was  called  and  the  culprit 
taken  away  whimpering,  and  Chimp  picked  up  the 
book.  It  was  a  handsome  edition  of  Tennyson's 
minor  poems  bound  in  red  morocco  with  gold  edges. 
'  By  Jove,  won't  Guy  swear  ! '  he  said  ;  '  he  is  fond  of 
that  book,  I  know.  What  beasts  puppies  are.'  After 
which  he  put  the  remains  back  on  the  table  and  went 
out  to  the  doorstep.  Everything  was  right  there. 
The    horse's   coat   was   like    satin,  and   his    bit   like 


XIV  SUSPENSE  193 

burnished  silver.  Dale  was  getting  more  and  more 
particular  about  these  things.  He  mounted  and  rode 
out  of  the  gateway,  and  down  the  road  towards  the 
Civil  station.  On  one  side  of  the  road  was  a  bit  of 
country  which  seemed  promising  for  a  paper-chase 
course,  and  he  wanted  to  look  at  it. 

As  he  rode  a  verse  of  Gordon's  kept  ringing  in  his 
ears,  and  he  repeated  it  aloud  with  a  twirl  of  his 
riding-crop — 

But  I  clove  his  skull  with  a  back  stroke  clean, 
For  the  glory  of  God  and  of  Gwendoline. 

He  had  not  gone  far  when  he  saw  Guy  in  the 
distance.  They  pulled  up  and  spoke  to  one  another 
for  a  minute,  and  Dale  offered  to  go  back  with  him  if 
he  would  come  out  too.  *No,  thanks.  Chimp,'  he 
answered.  '  I  think  I  will  have  a  quiet  smoke  before 
dinner,' 

'  Lazy  beggar.     Are  you  dining  at  mess  ? ' 

'  Yes.' 

'  All  right.     So  am  I.      I  shan't  be  long.' 

He  rode  off,  thinking  that  Guy  looked  happier,  and 
wondering  whether  Helen  Treveryan  had  anything  to 
do  with  it ;  but  in  a  few  minutes  his  thoughts  turned 
to  more  serious  matters.  As  he  had  guessed,  it  would 
do  very  well.  There  were  some  very  pretty  jumps, 
chiefly  mud  walls  with  ditches,  which  could  be  improved 
in  parts;  one  or  two  artificial  water  channels,  and 
some  rolling  ground,  with  thick  timber  in  patches,  and 
here  and  there  impassable  lines  of  wall   and   water. 

VOL.  I  0 


194  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

Altogether  a  good,  varied,  broken  country,  not  too 
open,  but  within  the  powers  of  any  one  who  meant 
going  and  had  a  horse  that  could  jump  a  bit.  Chimp 
put  his  Waler  over  one  or  two  mud  walls  with  much 
satisfaction  to  himself,  the  good  beast  taking  them 
freely  even  in  cold  blood.  It  is  curious  how  kindly 
most  horses  will  go  at  mud  walls.  Then  they  had  a 
difference  of  opinion  about  a  little  ditch  with  some 
water  in  it,  but  Dale  eventually  persuaded  the  Waler 
that  it  was  all  right.  When  he  got  back  to  his 
quarters,  he  had  worked  off  his  lunch  and  was  in 
good  spirits. 

So  apparently  was  Guy,  for  when  Dale  went  into 
his  room,  where  he  was  dressing  for  dinner,  Guy  was 
whistling  John  Peel.  It  is  true  that  he  was  rather 
abstracted,  and  did  not  appear  to  take  much  interest 
in  the  account  of  the  paper-chase  course ;  but  he  was 
cheerful.  Suddenly  his  cheerfulness  vanished.  '  Con- 
found it ! '  he  said  with  fiery  emphasis,  stopping  in  the 
act  of  brushing  his  hair. 

'  What  on  earth's  the  matter  ? ' 

Guy  hesitated,  with  a  scowl  on  his  face.  '  Oh, 
nothing/  he  said ;  '  only  I  had  forgotten  that  infernal 
court-martial.'  Poor  fellow !  he  had  been  calculating 
that  he  could  get  away  after  stables  and  be  at  the 
Treveryans'  by  one  o'clock.  The  disappointment  was 
severe,  and  he  went  in  to  dinner  as  silent  as  the  night 
before.  Directly  it  was  over  he  walked  back  to  his 
quarters  again ;  and  there,  after  a  short  time,  he  was 


XIV  SUSPENSE  195 

joined  by  his  faithful  friend,  who  could  not  understand 
his  sudden  depression. 

Dale  found  him  sitting  in  his  chair,  without  a 
book  and  looking  very  gloomy,  one  hand  pressed  deep 
into  his  pocket  and  the  other  holding  a  cigar. 

'  What  is  the  matter,  old  man  ? '  Dale  inquired, 
seating  himself  and  looking  at  him  curiously.  '  You're 
not  seedy,  are  you  ? ' 

'  Oh  no.      I'm  all  right.' 

'  You're  7iot  all  right.  I'm  certain  there  is  some- 
thing bothering  you.     Nothing  wrong  about  money  ? ' 

'  Money  ?     No.     I'm  all  right — really.' 

Dale  looked  at  him  rather  sadly ;  and  there  came 
upon  Guy  a  sudden  longing  for  sympathy  which  he 
could  not  control.  He  sat  up  in  his  chair  and  paused 
for  an  instant,  and  then  broke  out :  '  After  all,  I  don't 
see  why  I  should  tell  lies  about  it.  Look  here,  Chimp, 
I  know  you  won't  talk.  It's  the  old  story.  I  have 
made  a  fool  of  myself;  at  least,  I  don't  mean  that; 
but — well,  you  know  what  I  mean.  I'm  awfully  hard 
hit,  old  chap,  and  I  daresay  you  know  who  it  is.' 

There  could  not  be  much  doubt,  and  Dale  said  at 
once,  'Miss  Treveryan,  I  suppose.' 

'  Yes.' 

'  Have  you  said  anything  to  her  ? ' 

'  No ;  at  least,  not  exactly.' 

'Are  you  going  to?  She's  an  awfully  nice  girl, 
Guy;  but  do  you  mean  that  you're  going  to  marry 
her  ? ' 


196  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

'  Yes,  if  she'll  have  me.  I  can't  go  on  any  longer  like 
this.  You  don't  know  what  it  is,  Chimp.  I  thought 
she  cared  for  that  brute  Pitt  Wright,  and  it  nearly 
drove  me  mad.' 

Chimp  made  a  sound  expressive  of  unmitigated 
scorn.  ^  Pitt  Wright !  What  an  ass  you  are  !  She 
wouldn't  touch  him  with  the  end  of  a  barge-pole — not 
while  you  are  there,  anyhow.  Well,  I  suppose  you 
know  best,  old  chap ;  but  how  will  they  take  it  at 
home  ? ' 

Guy  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair,  as  a  vision  of 
Lady  Mary  came  across  him,  but  he  answered  stoutly, 
'  I'm  sure  they  would  be  delighted  if  they  knew  her ; 
and  anyhow,  when  I  marry,  I  mean  to  choose  for 
myself.' 

'  Of  course ;  quite  right  too.  I  only  meant  that 
sometimes  one's  people  get  in  a  rise  about  one.  Do 
you  think  there's  any  tin  ? ' 

'  I  don't  know,  and  I  don't  care.  I  wish  I  knew 
whether  she  would  have  me.' 

'  Have  you  ?  Of  course  she'll  have  you.  I'd  bet 
my  bottom  dollar  on  that.' 

'  Do  you  think  so  really  ?  I  believe  I  should  shoot 
myself  if  she  refused.' 

Dale  burst  out  laughing.  '  What  rot,  Guy  !  She 
won't  refuse,  and  you  would  not  shoot  yourself  if  she 
did.' 

Guy  was  getting  happier  every  minute.  The  secret 
was  out,  and  Dale's  cheery  confidence  raised  his  spirits. 


XIV  SUSPENSE  197 

As  to  the  future,  let  that  take  care  of  itself.  Had  he 
not  a  whole  lifetime  before  him  ?  Whatever  came  of 
it,  he  must  hear  those  sweet  lips  say  they  loved  him. 
All  would  come  right  somehow ;  it  always  did.  They 
stayed  talking  over  it  for  an  hour,  and  as  he  talked  Guy 
grew  more  and  more  enthusiastic.  The  slight  under- 
current of  doubt  and  warning  in  Dale's  words  and 
manner  only  spurred  him  on.  Before  they  separated 
he  had  made  up  his  mind. 

'  Well,  good-night,  old  man,'  Dale  said  at  parting. 
'  Think  it  over  well.  It's  a  big  jump  to  take.  Good 
luck  any  way,  whatever  you  do.' 

'  I  have  thought  it  over,'  Guy  said.  '  Good-night.' 
He  went  into  his  room  and  began  to  write  to 
Helen.  At  first  the  words  came  glibly  enough,  but 
then  there  was  a  check,  and  he  could  not  get  it  exactly 
right.  Dale  had  been  sleeping  peacefully  for  a  full 
hour,  and  Guy — it  sounds  unromantic — had  been 
obliged  to  refresh  himself  with  a  long  tumbler  of 
whisky  and  soda  before  he  was  satisfied.  Everything 
was  silent  as  he  read  over  his  final  copy  of  the  letter 
which  was  to  decide  his  fate.  The  weary  bearer  who 
brought  him  his  'peg'  had  put  out  the  lights  and 
rolled  himself  up  in  his  sheet  and  gone  to  sleep  again 
in  the  verandah.  There  was  not  a  sound  to  be  heard, 
except  at  intervals  a  horse  moving  sleepily  in  the 
stable,  and  the  faint,  distant  barking  of  some  village 
dogs.  The  house  and  all  around  it  lay  calm  and  still 
in  the  moonlight.     Guy's  letter  was  as  follows: — 


198  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

Dear  Miss  Treveryan — I  hoped  to  have  been  able  to 
come  over  to-morrow,  but  I  find  I  am  on  duty  and  cannot  get 
away  until  the  evening,  when  you  said  you  had  some  people  to 
tennis.  I  cannot  wait  another  day  on  the  chance  of  seeing  you, 
and  must  therefore  write.  I  think  you  know  what  I  wanted  to 
say  to  you.  It  is  no  use  my  saying  much.  If  you  can  give  me 
what  alone  I  care  to  have — your  love — you  have  given  it  to  me 
already.  If  you  have  not  given  it  to  me,  no  protestations  on  my 
part  would  make  you  do  so.  Will  you  send  me  a  few  lines  as 
soon  as  you  can,  and  tell  me  whether  I  have  had  the  wonderful 
good  fortune  to  win  what  is  more  to  me  than  all  the  world  1 
I  shall  await  your  answer  very  anxiously.  You  have  given  me 
no  right  to  speak  to  you  as  I  have  done  ;  and  you  must  not 
reproach  yourself  in  the  slightest  degree  for  any  pain  that  you 
may  have  to  cause  me  now.  Whatever  comes,  I  shall  always  be 
glad  that  I  have  had  the  happiness  to  know  you.  Please  forgive 
me  for  writing  if  I  have  troubled  you  by  doing  so.  One  line 
in  answer  will  be  enough.  Only  let  it  come  soon. — Yours 
very  sincerely,  Guy  Langley. 

Please  show  this  to  Colonel  Treveryan  if  you  like ;  but  let 
me  have  my  answer  from  yourself,  whatever  it  may  be. 

Guy  lit  a  match  and  carefully  burnt  the  scored  and 
altered  sheets  which  bore  his  first  efforts.  There  were 
three  of  them,  each  beginning  with  a  good,  boldly- 
written  sentence  or  two,  and  ending  in  a  chaos  of 
scribbles.  He  pressed  the  charred  remains  into  powder 
in  a  waste-paper  basket  which  he  kept  by  his  writing- 
table  ;  then  he  went  over  his  letter  again.  It  read  to 
him  rather  curt  and  broken  up,  and  the  words  'You 
have  given  me  no  right'  worried  him.  He  had  got 
two  '  givens '  before.  But  he  could  not  alter  the 
sentence  quite  to  his  mind.  '  I  have  no  right '  was 
not   what   he  meant.      He  left  the   point   open   and 


XIV  SUSPENSE  199 

passed  on  to  the  ending.  In  his  second  attempt  he 
had  left  out  the  *  Yours  very  sincerely,'  which  seemed 
to  him  a  cool  conclusion  to  such  a  letter,  and,  after 
rejecting  some  other  forms,  had  written  simply,  'let  it 
come  soon. — Guy  Langley.'  When  writing  the  final 
copy  this  struck  him  as  rather  theatrical  and  French, 
and  he  had  put  back  the  conventional  words.  ISTow 
he  thought  he  had  better  leave  them  in.  They  accorded 
better  with  the  tone  of  rather  proud  submission  in 
which  he  flattered  himself  his  letter  was  couched. 
Finally,  he  concluded  to  let  the  other  sentence  alone 
too.  After  all,  it  conveyed  what  he  meant  to  convey ; 
and  the  mere  verbal  inelegance,  if  noticed,  would  only 
show  that  he  was  not  thinking  too  much  of  the  manner 
of  his  communication.  '  Let  it  be,'  he  thought  to 
himself,  'till  morning  at  all  events.  I  can  always 
alter  it  then.'  He  put  the  letter  in  an  envelope,  which 
he  closed.  An  odd  thought  crossed  his  mind  that  if, 
by  any  chance,  he  died  in  the  night  he  would  like 
Helen  to  get  the  letter ;  and  he  addressed  it  carefully 
to  'Miss  Treveryan,  Syntia.'  Then,  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  he  undressed  and  got  into  bed,  thinking  how 
curious  it  was  that  he  should  be  acting  in  such  a  calm 
and  matter-of-fact  way  at  the  great  crisis  of  his  life. 
In  a  few  minutes  he  was  asleep. 

When  Guy  woke  in  the  morning  he  had  to  decide 
whether  to  send  off  his  letter  or  not.  He  opened 
the  envelope  and  read  it  again.  It  did  not  quite 
please    him.       He    had    a    certain    artistic    sense    of 


200  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  xiv 

finish,  and  he  would  have  liked  to  alter  it  a  little; 
but  he  shrank  from  the  trouble  and  anxiety  involved, 
and  he  had  hardly  time.  After  a  few  seconds  of 
hesitation  he  put  it  in  a  fresh  envelope,  which  he 
addressed  to  Helen.  Then  he  called  for  a  syce,  and 
told  him  to  take  the  letter  to  the  Commissioner 
Sahib's  and  bring  an  answer. 

When  he  was  gone,  Guy  felt  in  thoroughly  good 
spirits.  The  thing  was  done;  and  he  believed  in 
his  heart  that  he  knew  what  the  answer  would  be. 
Throughout  the  day  he  did  all  he  had  to  do  smartly 
and  attentively,  without  any  apparent  preoccupation, 
and  though  at  times  the  remembrance  of  his  letter 
flashed  across  him  and  made  his  heart  thrill,  he 
waited  patiently  enough,  his  strongest  feeling  being 
still  a  feeling  of  wonder  at  his  own  calmness.  It 
was  not  until  the  afternoon  that  he  began  to  be 
at  all  uneasy  at  the  non-return  of  his  messenger ; 
and  even  then,  though  it  surprised  him  a  little,  he 
accounted  for  it  sensibly  in  a  dozen  different  ways. 
He  was  even  pleased  at  the  reflection  that,  when 
the  answer  came,  he  would  be  free  and  able  to 
think  about  it,  instead  of  being  in  a  room  with 
a  lot  of  other  men  and  obliged  to  attend  to  what 
was  going  on. 


CHAPTEE    XV 

ENGAGED 

When  Guy  Langley  left  Colonel  Treveryan's  house 
there  was  only  a  short  iuuerval  before  evening  church, 
and  several  of  the  party  drove  down  together.  Helen 
always  went  as  she  had  to  play  the  harmonium,  and 
Hunter  went  to  support  her. 

That  evening's  service  was  one  never  to  be  for- 
gotten. As  she  drove  down  she  was  still  feeling 
very  restless  and  upset;  but  when  she  got  to  her 
seat  she  made  a  resolute  effort  to  control  herself. 
As  she  knelt  with  her  face  in  her  hands,  praying, 
with  a  woman's  ready  self-reproach,  that  her  thoughts 
might  be  kept  from  wandering,  a  sense  of  stillness 
and  peace  came  upon  her.  She  accepted  it  thank- 
fully as  an  answer  to  her  prayer,  and  rose  with  quiet 
happiness  in  her  heart.  Guy's  name  had  not  passed 
her  lips.  I^ot  even  upon  her  knees  could  she  confess 
as  yet  the  love  of  which  she  had  hardly  recognised 
the  existence.  All  she  asked  now  was  that  she  might 
be  made  less  unfit  for  the  worship  in  which  she  was 
engaged — as  if  love  were  a   sin.      After  that,   with 


202  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

the  help  of  the  music,  she  had  no  difficulty  in  keeping 
her  thoughts  upon  the  service,  and  even  upon  the 
little  Padre's  sermon.  Then  came  the  evening  hymn. 
She  sang  it  with  a  full  heart,  the  sweet  Abide  with  Me 
that  has  brought  comfort  to  so  many,  putting  the  seal 
upon  the  day  of  rest  and  driving  away  for  a  few 
hours  the  last  relics  of  the  fret  and  striving  of  the 
week.  There  were  some  quiet  good-nights  in  the 
church-porch,  and  then  Helen  drove  back  through  the 
darkness. 

The  evening  dragged.  Helen  felt  as  if  so  much 
had  happened  to  her,  and  so  long  ago.  She  wanted 
to  get  away  and  think  it  all  over  quietly ;  and 
Pitt  Wright's  voice  and  conversation  jarred  on  her 
more  than  ever.  He  had  somehow  found  an  opening 
for  one  of  his  favourite  arguments,  and  was  engaged 
in  demonstrating  with  much  satisfaction  to  himself 
that  patriotism  was  only  a  form  of  selfishness.  He 
thought  his  hearers  did  not  understand  him,  and  was 
very  urgent  in  his  explanations.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  both  of  them  understood  him  perfectly  well; 
but  they  were  bored  by  the  foolish  old  conceit,  the 
truth  and  falsehood  of  which  they  had  long  before 
realised.  Helen  was  always  impatient  of  this  class 
of  reasoning.  She  felt  that,  whether  it  was  selfish- 
ness or  not,  a  man  who  was  without  a  strong  love  of 
country  was  never  worth  much.  When  Pitt  Wright 
went  on  to  scoff  at  our  insular  conceit,  and  to  say 
that  in  many  respects  we  were  inferior  to  our  neigh- 


XV  ENGAGED  203 

bours,  and  that  sooner  or  later  we  should  of  course 
fall  to  our  proper  level,  as  others  had  done,  she  fairly 
lost  her  temper.  '  If  those  are  our  feelings  we  deserve 
to  fall,'  she  said  hotly.  '  We  should  certainly  never 
have  been  what  we  are  if  Englishmen  had  always 
thought  as  you  do.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  looked  at  her  and  abruptly 
changed  the  conversation,  and  she  was  silent.  Then 
she  began  thinking  of  Guy  Langley  again,  and  of 
what  he  had  said  to  her.  She  could  not  help 
contrasting  him  with  Pitt  Wright.  How  different 
he  was,  with  his  straight  eyes  and  courteous  manners 
and  gallant  bearing.  This  man  had  not  a  spark 
of  soldierly  feeling  in  him.  You  could  not  imagine 
him  risking  his  life  for  anything  in  the  world. 

When  ten  o'clock  struck,  Helen  suggested  ihat 
it  was  time  for  her  father  to  have  his  cigar.  Pitt 
Wright  wished  to  smoke  too,  so  she  said  good-night 
and  went  to  her  room.  She  had  been  debating  in 
her  own  mind  whether  she  ought  to  tell  her  father 
what  Guy  had  said.  She  shrank  from  doing  so, 
for,  after  all,  he  had  said  very  little,  and  might 
say  no  more ;  and  she  had  not  thought  it  all  out 
yet.     It  was  a  relief  to  put  off  saying  anything. 

When  she  had  dismissed  her  ayaJi,  Helen  sat 
down  in  a  low  chair  and  gave  herself  up  to  her 
thoughts.  Now  that  she  could  look  quietly  back 
upon  what  had  passed,  she  felt  that,  if  she  had 
allowed   him,   Guy  would   certainly   have   asked   her 


204  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

to  be  his  wife.  She  remembered,  with  a  thrill  at 
her  heart  which  made  her  colour  hotly  even  now, 
the  eager  look  in  his  eyes.  Yes,  she  could  not 
be  mistaken;  he  did  care  for  her.  The  discovery 
had  startled  her  at  first :  it  rejoiced  her  now.  Then 
she  put  it  to  herself:  Did  she  really  care  for  him 
in  return?  The  answer  was  not  long  in  coming. 
He  seemed  to  her  everything  that  a  soldier  should 
be — manly  and  gentle  and  courteous,  and  withal  so 
bright  and  handsome.  Whatever  the  men  about 
him  could  do  he  could  do,  and  do  well;  and  not 
one  of  them  had  his  deep  feeling,  his  love  for  all 
that  was  good  and  beautiful,  his  taste  for  poetry 
and  music  and  art,  his  faith  in  her  God.  She 
deceived  herself,  of  course,  to  some  extent.  She 
did  not  realise  how  a  quick  sympathetic  nature  can 
catch,  and  reflect  for  a  time,  the  most  beautiful 
feelings  of  others."  JSTevertheless,  it  was  not  sur- 
prising that  she  thought  highly  of  him,  and  that, 
with  her  romantic  girlish  heart,  she  should  have 
imagined  herself  unworthy  of  so  perfect  a  knight. 
'  What  is  there  in  me,'  she  thought,  '  that  he  should 
care  for  me  ? '  She  sat  long  pondering  over  it  all — 
a  motherless  girl  who  had  to  work  out  her  life 
problem  alone;  and  when  she  rose  from  her  chair, 
her  way  had  become  plain  to  her.  Since  the  morning, 
when  she  had  risen  as  innocent  and  thoughtless  as 
a  child,  love  had  laid  his  finger  on  her  heart, 
the  scales  had  fallen  from  her  eyes,  and  the  woman 


XV  ENGAGED  205 

in  her  had  suddenly  leapt  into  life.  She  was  innocent 
still,  with  the  marvellous  snow-white  innocence  of 
a  pure-hearted  girl;  but  she  could  never  again  be 
a  child.  As  she  rose,  trembling  at  the  new-born 
feeling  within  her,  and  yet  rejoicing,  it  came  to 
her  with  a  sudden  pang  that  perhaps  after  all  Guy 
would  never  speak  again  as  he  had  done ;  but  this 
time  she  drove  away  the  thought.  She  knew  now 
that  she  loved  him,  and  she  would  not  doubt.  Already 
she  felt  as  if  doubt  were  disloyalty  to  him. 

When  Helen  Treveryan  laid  her  head  on  her 
pillow  and  fell  asleep,  Guy  Langley  was  finishing 
his  letter  to  her ;  and  at  the  same  time  her  father's 
guest,  on  the  other  side  of  the  house,  got  into  bed, 
leaving  a  closed  envelope  on  his  writing-table.  It 
was  addressed  to  Mrs.  Pitt  Wright,  Mereham  Hall, 
Norfolk,  and  contained  the  following  letter : — 

Syntia,  India, 
2Uh  January  1876. 

My  dear  Mother — I  don't  suppose  you  have  the  vaguest 
idea  where  Syntia  is.  I  never  heard  of  it  till  I  came  here. 
I  know  it  well  enough  now,  worse  luck,  having  been  condemned 
for  my  sins  to  spend  a  whole  month  in  the  wretched  place 
waiting  for  my  shooting-party  to  get  ready.  They  have  taken 
their  time  about  it,  but  I  join  them  to-morrow,  and  hope  to 
get  some  tigers.  I  shall  come  home  by  a  steamer  that  leaves 
Bombay  about  the  middle  of  February,  and  shall  not  be  sorry 
to  get  back  to  civilisation,  though  I  am  rather  glad  I  saw 
the  Delhi  business  and  the  Taj,  etc.  I  suppose  you  got  my 
letter  telling  you  all  about  it. 

I   don't  know  why  on   earth   I   was   sent   here.       It's   the 


2o6  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

slowest  hole  you  can  imagine — nothing  to  do  but  snipe-shooting 
or  pig-sticking.  They  wanted  me  to  go  and  see  some  ruins 
in  the  jungle  and  other  'sights,'  but  I  have  had  enough  of 
that  sort  of  thing,  and  politely  declined.  I  have  been  staying 
with  some  people  of  the  name  of  Treveryan.  The  father  is 
what  they  call  a  Commissioner.  He  is  regarded  as  a  great 
man  out  here,  and  gets  absurdly  high  j)ay — three  or  four 
thousand  a  year,  I  believe.  He  is  not  a  bad  fellow  in  his 
way,  and  has  done  me  well  enough ;  but  out  here  people 
are  only  too  glad  to  put  you  up  as  long  as  you  like  to 
stay.  They  don't  get  a  chance  very  often  of  seeing  any  one. 
It's  about  time  I  went  now,  though.  The  old  boy  has  got 
a  rather  pretty  daughter,  and  he  leaves  us  alone  a  good 
deal.  I'm  obliged  to  be  civil  to  her  while  I  am  staying 
in  the  house,  so  she's  got  me  in  a  corner.  However,  I 
have  defended  myself  successfully  so  far,  and  I  am  off  to-morrow, 
so  I  think  I  am  safe.  If  I  don't  write  again,  you  can  expect 
me  about  the  middle  of  March.  I  shall  stay  a  day  or  two 
in  town,  and  then  come  on  to  Mereham. — Yours  ever, 

H.  Pitt  Wright. 

After  breakfast  next  morning,  Pitt  Wright  gave 
over  this  letter  to  Helen  Treveryan,  asking  her  to 
have  it  posted ;  and  then  he  shook  hands  with  her 
and  looked  into  her  honest  eyes,  and  said  good-bye, 
and  added,  'Thank  you  for  a  very  pleasant  visit. 
I  hope  some  day  we  may  meet  again  in  England,' 
and  was  gone.  And  the  native  servants,  who  had 
hung  about  in  expectation  of  a  tip,  hiding  themselves 
from  their  master's  eye,  saw  the  rich  English  gentle- 
man upon  whom  they  had  waited  for  a  month  depart 
with  all  his  boxes,  leaving  never  a  rupee  behind  him 
to  comfort  their  souls.     The  poor  sweeper  and  water- 


XV  ENGAGED  207 

carrier,  who  were  acciistomed  to  neglect,  only  gazed 
at  him  wistfully  from  outside  the  verandah,  and  turned 
away  to  their  labours  with  a  sigh ;  hut  Mohun,  the 
head  bearer,  looked  scornful ;  and  Maula  Baksh,  the 
Mahometan  table  servant,  who  had  been  specially 
obsequious  and  attentive,  said  to  his  fellow  Daulat 
Khan,  while  his  black  moustache  quivered  with 
indignation,  '  What  sort  of  a  custom  is  this  ?  This 
is  not  a  Sahih!  But  what  was  the  use  of  giving 
them  anything  ?     He  would  never  be  there  again. 

Helen  Treveryan  stood  on  the  steps  with  Eex  to  see 
the  carriage  go  off.  Colonel  Treveryan  driving  his 
guest  down  to  the  station.  As  they  drove  away,  she 
re-entered  the  house  with  a  hearty  expression  of  relief. 

It  was  a  trying  morning.  She  felt  sure  that  Guy 
Langley  would  come  over,  but  she  did  not  expect  him 
before  one  o'clock,  as  he  would  have  '  stables '  after 
parade.  She  had  therefore  some  hours  before  her. 
She  made  a  resolute  effort  to  think  of  other  things, 
and  for  a  time  she  was  able  to  find  occupation  in  her 
household  work.  This,  however,  did  not  last  very  long  • 
and  by  eleven  o'clock  she  was  beginning  to  feel  very 
restless  and  unsettled,  and  to  wonder  why  her  father 
had  not  returned.  She  took  out  some  breakfast  to 
Jacko  the  monkey,  who  lived  on  the  top  of  a  pole  by 
the  front  door,  and  she  paid  a  visit  to  the  stables  and 
gave  the  horses  some  bits  of  sugar-cane,  and  then  went 
into  her  room  and  stood  for  a  time  at  her  window, 
thinking  with  a  beating  heart  of  what  was  coming  upon 


2o8  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

her.  As  she  looked  out  upon  the  dry  grass  sward,  a 
little  gray  squirrel  ran  across  from  the  clump  of  casuarina 
trees  and  jumped  on  to  her  verandah.  The  tiny  creature 
attracted  her  attention,  and  roused  her  from  her  day 
dream.  She  looked  at  it  for  a  time  as  it  ran  about  in 
little  jerks,  with  its  nose  on  the  ground  and  its  tail  in 
the  air,  and  then  she  thought  she  would  go  to  her 
piano  and  do  some  practising.  She  was  on  the  point 
of  turning  away  w^hen  she  saw  a  man  walking  up  the 
avenue  of  mango  trees  from  the  western  gateway. 
Something  told  her  that  his  coming  was  of  im- 
portance to  her,  and  she  watched  him  as  he  advanced 
towards  the  house,  walking  easily  as  if  in  no  way  pressed. 
He  wore  no  livery,  but  she  could  see  from  his  dress,  as 
he  passed  in  and  out  of  the  tree-trunks,  that  he  was 
a  sijce,  and  when  he  came  close  to  her  she  recognised 
Guy  Langley's  servant.  He  passed  by  the  corner 
of  the  house,  going  towards  the  front  door,  and  as  he 
did  so,  Helen  dropped  into  a  chair  and  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands.  Her  heart  stopped  for  a  second,  and 
then  throbbed  heavily  once  or  twice,  and  she  felt  the 
blood  rush  to  her  face.  She  had  barely  time  to  control 
herself  when  she  heard  the  bearer's  voice  calling  to  her 
at  the  door  of  her  outer  room. 

'  Miss  Sahib  ? ' 

'  Yes.     What  is  it  ? ' 

'  A  letter.' 

She  walked  to  the  curtained  door,  behind  which  the 
man  was  standing,  and  put  her  hand  out.     It  seemed  to 


XV  ENGAGED  209 

her  that  he  must  guess  her  secret  if  he  saw  her  face, 
and  even  her  voice  sounded  as  if  it  must  betray  her. 
She  need  not  have  been  troubled.  Her  correspondence 
was  large,  and  Mohun  regarded  the  letter  as  an  invitation, 
or  an  answer  to  an  invitation.  He  asked  whether  the 
man  was  to  wait  for  a  reply,  and  Helen  said  she  would 
see,  and  went  back  into  her  bedroom.  There  she 
opened  her  letter  with  trembling  hands  and  read  what 
Guy  had  written.  For  a  minute  or  two  afterwards  she 
sat  with  the  letter  in  her  lap,  and  her  heart  beating 
wildly  ;  then  she  read  it  again,  and  thought  it  the  most 
beautiful  letter  that  ever  was  written,  proud  and  tender 
and  manly,  just  what  she  would  have  expected  from 
him.  She  felt  as  if  she  had  had  it  a  long  time,  as  if 
it  had  come  many  hours  ago  and  become  quite  familiar 
to  her.  One  lives  fast  at  the  supreme  moments  of  life. 
Helen's  next  feeling  was  one  of  impatience  for  the 
return  of  her  father.  Until  he  came  she  could  do 
nothing.  In  the  meantime  she  went  out  and  told 
Mohun  to  keep  the  syce  waiting ;  she  would  send  an 
answer  after  she  had  spoken  to  the  Commissioner  Sahib. 
She  could  face  Mohun  boldly  now.  There  was  still  a 
tumult  at  her  heart ;  but  in  place  of  restlessness  and  fear 
there  were  rising  in  it  pride  and  joy,  and  a  sense  of 
power.  She  knew  well  enough  now  what  her  answer 
would  be. 

Colonel  Treveryan  did  not  keep  her  waiting  long. 
Ten  minutes  more  and  she  heard  the  trot  of  his  horses 
in  the  distance,  and  saw  him  drive  up,  a  cigar  in  his 
VOL.  I  p 


210  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

mouth,  wholly  unconscious  of  the  crisis.  He  had  taken 
advantage  of  the  break  in  his  morning's  work  to 
drive  round  and  see  Hunter  about  some  business-matter 
which  he  wanted  to  settle.  Now  he  would  have  gone 
straight  into  his  office,  where  some  native  officials  were 
awaiting  him,  but  Helen  came  out  and  caught  him  as  he 
got  down.  '  Can  you  spare  me  a  minute,  father  ? '  she 
said.     '  I  want  to  speak  to  you.' 

The  tone  of  her  voice  struck  him,  and  he  looked  up 
at  her  with  some  curiosity  as  she  stood  on  the  steps 
above  him.  '  All  right,  Nell.  Fire  away.' 
'  Would  you  mind  coming  into  my  room  ? ' 
He  walked  up  the  steps  and  put  his  hat  on  the 
stand  and  followed  her,  wondering  vaguely  whether 
anything  was  wrong.  When  he  was  safe  in  her  room 
she  handed  him  Guy's  letter.  '  This  came  while  you 
were  out,  father.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  read  the  letter  in  silence,  and 
then  it  went  slowly  down,  and  he  looked  at  her.  She 
was  standing  in  front  of  him  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon 
his  face.  They  dropped,  and  her  cheek  flushed. 
'  Look  at  me,  Nell,'  he  said  gently,  and  he  put  his  hand 
on  her  shoulder.  Helen  looked  up,  and  a  pang  came 
to  her  heart.  She  had  never  realised  until  now  what 
it  would  be  to  him.  Now  she  realised  it  suddenly  as 
she  saw  the  look  of  sad  inquiry  in  his  eyes.  The 
doubt  faded  out  of  them  without  a  word  being  spoken, 
but  the  sadness  deepened.  Poor  fellow !  she  was  all 
he  had  now,  and  he  had  got  to  love  her  very  dearly. 


XV  ENGAGED  211 

The  blow  had  fallen  quite  unexpectedly  too ;  and  just 
at  first  he  could  not  help  feeling  sore  and  miserable. 
His  home  must  be  desolate  again,  and  she  who  had 
seemed  to  care  for  him  so  much  was  ready  to  leave 
him  for  a  boy  whom  she  had  never  seen  until  a  few 
months  before.  It  was  hard.  After  a  second  or 
two  he  said,  '  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  before, 
Nell  ? ' 

'  I  did  not  know,  father.  He  said  nothing  until 
yesterday,  and  then  ...  it  was  only  just  a  word  or 
two.  I  meant  to  speak  to  you  last  night,  but  I  had 
no  chance ;  and  ...  I  was  not  sure.' 

'  I  wish  you  had  told  me.  You  have  not  answered 
yet?' 

'  No,  father.' 

'  You  want  to  answer  now,  I  suppose  ;  and  to. give 
him  what  he  asks  for  ? ' 

Helen  felt  depressed ;  but  she  remembered  Guy's 
letter  and  answered  gently :  '  I  have  given  it  already, 
father  dear.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  sighed — a  long  sad  sigh.  '  Very 
well.  Ask  him  to  come  over  and  see  me  to-morrow 
morning.  He  could  come  to  breakfast,  I  daresay.' 
Then  he  stooped  and  kissed  her,  and  turned  away 
sharply,  his  lips  quivering. 

Helen  could  not  let  him  go  like  this.  A  wave  of 
contrition  and  sorrow  came  over  her,  and  she  felt  for 
the  moment  as  if  she  could  give  up  even  Guy  for  his 
sake.     She  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm  and  stopped  him. 


212  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

'  Don't  be  angry  with  me,  daddy.  I  really  did  not 
know.     Tell  me  what  you  want  me  to  do.' 

Her  father  turned  and  drew  her  towards  him  until 
the  bright  brown  head  was  against  his  breast.  He 
kissed  her  hair  and  stroked  it,  trying  to  control  his 
voice.  '  Forgive  me,  Nell,'  he  said  at  last,  '  I'm  a 
selfish  beast ;  but  I  do  want  you  to  be  happy.' 

Helen  caught  one  of  his  hands  and  held  it.  '  You 
do  like  him,  father  ? ' 

'  Yes,  I  like  him  very  much  indeed.  I  think  he  is 
the  finest  young  fellow  I  know,  and  I  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  myself.  It  was  only  that  I  could  not 
stand  the  thought  of  losing  you.' 

'You  will  never  lose  me,  father  dear.  I  shall 
always  be  just  the  same  to  you.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  smiled  and  kissed  her  head 
again  very  gently.  He  knew  too  well.  '  Now,  Nell,  I 
must  go  and  get  to  my  work.  Don't  let  yourself  be 
bothered  by  anything  I  said.  I  am  really  very  glad 
indeed ;  and  I  shall  soon  get  accustomed  to  the  idea. 
I  must  have  been  blind  not  to  have  seen  it  before,  but 
somehow  it  never  struck  me.' 

He  went  away,  like  the  simple-hearted  gentleman 
that  he  was,  trying  hard  to  look  cheerful  and  to  re- 
joice for  his  daughter's  sake.  He  did  not  worry  him- 
self at  the  moment  about  any  secondary  considerations. 
In  India  these  thins^s  are  looked  at  from  a  more  old- 
fashioned  point  of  view  than  in  England.  Guy 
Langley  was  a  gentleman,  and  '  in  the  service  ' — that 


XV  ENGAGED  213 

was  sufficient.  Treveryan  was  soon  hard  at  work  in 
his  office,  forcing  himself  to  devote  his  whole  attention 
to  a  rather  complicated  revenue  case,  and  to  forget  all 
about  his  private  affairs. 

Meanwhile,  Helen  sat  down  in  the  quiet  of  her 
own  room  to  answer  Guy's  letter.  Her  heart  was  full 
of  joy  and  pride,  and  though  she  found  it  unusually 
difficult  to  say  what  she  meant,  the  task  was  a  pleasant 
one.  She  was  helped  by  the  feeling  that  Guy  would 
be  waiting  impatiently  for  her  answer.  She  wrote  a 
few  lines  only — 

Dear  Mr.  Langley — Your  letter  has  made  me  very  happy. 
My  father  wishes  me  to  ask  you  whether  you  can  come  over  and 
see  him  to-morrow  morning.  If  possible  come  to  breakfast. — 
Yours  very  sincerely,  Helen. 

She  hesitated  before  signing  it,  and  then  wrote 
simply  '  Helen.'  '  He  will  like  to  feel  that  I  am  not 
Miss  Treveryan  to  him  any  longer,'  she  said  to  herself. 
It  was  a  delightful  act  of  surrender. 

Helen  addressed  the  letter  carefully  and  sealed  it 
with  the  Treveryan  crest,  lest  the  syce,  should  open  and 
read  it :  syces  who  do  not  know  a  word  of  English 
being  so  likely  to  do  these  things. 

Mohuu  took  the  precious  missive  out  as  callously 
as  if  it  had  been  a  mere  invitation  to  dinner,  and 
handed  it  over  to  the  man  who  was  waiting  for  it.  He 
added  that  it  was  urgent,  and  that  the  messenger  must 
run   with   it ;  but  this  was   a  formula   which   meant 


214  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

absolutely  nothing,  as  Sew  Eatan  well  knew.  He  had 
never  received  a  letter  without  it  from  the  lordly 
Mohun,  who  loved  giving  orders  to  his  inferiors.  He 
accordingly  twisted  the  note  into  a  fold  of  his  turban 
and  walked  off  in  a  very  leisurely  manner,  past  the 
window  at  which  Helen  was  standing,  and  down  the 
avenue  of  mango  trees.  She  thought  he  went  very 
slowly,  but  if  she  had  seen  his  proceedings  after  he 
got  out  of  her  father's  grounds,  her  slight  impatience 
would  have  given  place  to  a  warmer  feeling.  At  the 
corner  of  the  road  near  the  Commissioner  Sahib's 
gateway  was  a  spreading  banyan  tree,  and  under  the 
tree  a  seller  of  sweetmeats  had  had  his  stall  from  time 
immemorial.  It  was  not  a  bad  corner,  for  there  were 
cross-roads  at  this  point,  one  of  which  led  to  the 
district  cutcheries  or  courts,  and  was  largely  used. 
Sew  Eatan  came  into  the  shade  of  the  tree  and 
bargained  for  a  minute  or  two  with  the  sweet-seller, 
who  sat  on  a  little  wooden  platform  in  the  middle  of 
his  baskets.  Finally  a  bargain  was  struck,  and  Sew 
Eatan  became  the  possessor  of  a  pound  or  so  of  some 
sticky  compound  that  looked  like  whitish  barley-sugar 
twisted  into  bracelets.  He  received  his  purchase  in  a 
large  green  leaf,  and  after  a  desultory  conversation 
strolled  off  down  the  dusty  road,  eating  the  bracelets 
and  yodelling  softly  to  himself.  At  the  entrance  to 
the  cantonments,  which  he  duly  reached  about  an  hour 
later,  there  was  a  house  in  which  one  of  his  friends 
was  employed.     Feeling  rather  thirsty  from  the  effects 


XV  ENGAGED  215 

of  his  walk  in  the  sun  and  his  pound  of  sweets,  he 
went  round  to  the  stables  and  got  his  friend  to  give 
him  some  water.  After  that  the  two  sat  down  on 
their  heels  under  a  tree  close  to  the  stable  and  smoked 
a  pipe  together,  putting  the  tobacco  at  the  end  of  a 
long  upright  stem,  and  sucking  at  the  coconut  bowl 
with  that  cussedness  which  characterises  the  Oriental. 
When  he  had  spent  another  hour  in  this  pleasant 
manner,  Sew  Eatan  rose  with  a  sigh  and  proceeded  on 
his  journey,  at  the  end  of  which  he  eventually  de- 
livered himself  of  his  letter.  By  that  time  one  of  its 
corners  was  broken,  and  it  bore  a  very  dirty  thumb- 
mark,  which  would  have  made  Helen  miserable  if  she 
had  seen  it.  She  wrote  a  pretty  hand,  clear  and 
legible  with  some  character  in  it,  like  Aunt  Madge, 
and  was  rather  proud  of  the  neatness  of  her  letters. 

Guy's  bearer  had  gone  to  his  dinner,  which  included 
a  quiet  afternoon's  sleep  upon  a  string-bed  in  his  hut, 
and  he  was  not  going  to  get  up  for  any  of  the  Sahib's 
ridiculous  letters ;  besides  which,  the  Sahib  was  away 
at  court-martial.  So  Helen's  loving  little  note  was  put 
down  upon  the  wooden  stool  outside  the  great  man's 
hut,  and  there  it  remained  until  the  sun  was  sloping 
westward.  Then  it  was  taken  over  to  the  house 
and  placed  upon  the  sitting-room  table. 

After  lunch  she  sat  in  her  room  trying  to  read, 
until  it  was  time  to  change  her  dress.  There  were  a 
number  of  people  coming  to  tennis.  In  the  evening 
it  was  better.     The  tennis  helped  to  pass  the  time,  and 


2i6  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  xv 

then  her  father  and  she  went  out  to  dinner  at  the 
Hunters',  and  there  were  other  things  to  think  of. 
But  all  the  time  the  secret  was  lying  in  her  heart ; 
how  strange  it  seemed  that  no  one  of  them 
knew. 


CHAPTEE   XVI 

GUY  WRITES  HOME 

When  Guy  at  last  got  his  letter  it  was  evening.  The 
court-martial  had  lasted  an  unusually  long  time.  Directly 
he  was  free  he  mounted  his  pony  which  had  been 
waiting  for  him  for  some  hours,  and  went  over  to  his 
quarters  at  a  gallop.  '  Langley  seems  to  be  in  the 
devil's  own  hurry,'  St.  Orme  remarked,  as  he  dis- 
appeared round  the  corner,  leaving  a  trail  of  dust 
behind  him. 

The  moment  he  was  in  the  house  he  saw  his  letter 
on  the  table.  '  When  did  this  come  ? '  he  said,  with 
an  affectation  of  indifference,  as  he  took  it  up. 

'  It  has  just  come,  Sahib.  The  Commissioner  Sahib 
was  out,  and  the  syce  had  to  wait  until  evening.' 

Guy  went  into  his  room  to  read  his  letter.  Dale 
was  out  apparently,  but  he  might  come  in  at  any 
moment. 

Guy  looked  at  the  seal  as  he  turned  the  envelope 
over  to  open  it,  and  noticed  what  a  perfect  impression 
it  was.  His  first  feeling  was  almost  one  of  disappoint- 
ment at  the  extreme  shortness  of  the  letter ;  but  as  he 


2i8  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

read  it  over  and  realised  all  that  it  meant  his  heart 
bounded  within  him.  Then  he  was  seized  with  a 
furious  impatience  to  see  Helen.  It  was  hard  to  be  so 
near,  and  yet  unable  to  get  to  her.  Should  he  ride 
over  and  try  to  see  her  now  ?  He  looked  at  his  watch. 
N"o,  it  was  hopeless.  There  would  be  a  dozen  people 
at  tennis,  and  he  would  have  to  come  back  early,  as 
he  was  dining  with  the  Aylmers.  Besides,  he  had  no 
right  to  go.  She  had  asked  him  to  come  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  it  might  embarrass  her  if  he  came  earlier. 
He  must  possess  his  soul  in  patience.  Then  it 
occurred  to  him  that  he  could  write,  and  he  sat  down 
at  once.  That  would  be  relief,  and  it  would  be  de- 
licious to  feel  that  she  had  his  letter  before  night. 
This  time  he  let  himself  go.  She  had  accepted  his 
love,  and  let  him  know  that  he  had  won  hers.  What 
need  for  further  restraint  ? 

My  Darling — Your  letter  has  just  reached  me,  and  I  must 
send  you  one  hne  of  thanks  for  it.  You  cannot  know  what  mad 
delight  it  has  given  me.  I  had  been  trying  all  day  to  harden 
my  heart  for  the  answer  which  I  feared  would  come ;  and  I  hope 
that  if  it  had  come  I  should  have  taken  it  like  a  gentleman,  but 
when  I  saw  your  letter  all  my  courage  was  gone,  and  for  a 
moment  I  could  not  open  it.  Now  that  I  have  done  so  the  joy 
is  almost  more  than  I  can  bear.  I  must  not  weary  you  by 
writing  any  more,  but  you  will  forgive  me  for  writing  this 
much  ?  I  cannot  let  the  night  pass  without  telling  you  what 
happiness  you  have  given  me,  and  I  cannot  tell  you  except  by 
letter.  It  does  seem  cruel  that  I  should  be  obliged  to  stay 
away  from  you  when  I  could  be  with  you  in  a  few  minutes  ; 
but  you  are  right  of  course,  and  your  wish  is  law  to  me.     It 


XVI  GUY  WRITES  HOME  219 

always  will  be.  I  shall  ride  over  early  to-morrow  morning  and 
hope  to  see  you  for  one  minute  before  breakfast.  Don't  dis- 
appoint me  if  you  can  help  it.  Till  then,  good-bye.  I  feel  as 
if  I  could  not  stop  writing.  Why  cannot  I  go  to  you  instead 
of  these  cold  words  ? — Ever  your  own  Guy. 

This  letter  took  some  time  to  write,  and  the  darkness 
had  closed  in  before  Guy  entrusted  it  to  his  servant, 
with  orders  that  it  must  be  delivered  the  same  evening, 
and  that  there  was  no  answer. 

When  Helen  received  it,  which  she  did  on  return 
from  her  dinner-party,  Guy's  words  did  not  strike  her 
as  being  by  any  means  '  cold,'  but  she  was  far  from 
resenting  their  warmth.  It  seemed  to  her  strange 
and  delightful  that  she  should  have  aroused  such  fiery 
devoted  love.  She  locked  up  the  two  letters  together 
when  she  went  to  join  her  father  over  his  cigar^  If 
he  had  asked  to  see  the  second,  she  would  of  course 
have  shown  it  to  him,  but  she  felt  no  inclination  to 
do  so.  Already  there  was  that  between  her  and  Guy 
which  was  not  for  other  eyes.  Colonel  Treveryan  did 
not  ask  to  see  the  letter ;  but  after  a  time  he  put  his 
hand  out  and  laid  it  on  Helen's.  '  Did  you  write  to 
Langley  ? '  he  said. 

'  Yes,  father.  He  is  coming  to-morrow  morning 
to  breakfast.' 

There  was  silence  for  a  time,  and  then  Colonel 
Treveryan  ventured  one  more  question.  It  all  seemed 
to  him  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that  he  could  not 
quite  get  over  a  feeling  of  doubt  even  now.      Girls 


220  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

were  apt  to  imagine  themselves  in  love  with  the 
first  man  who  admired  them.  '  Forgive  me,  Nell,'  he 
said,  in  a  hesitating  tone ;  '  you  know  how  much  your 
happiness  is  to  me.  Are  you  quite  sure  you  really 
care  for  him  ? ' 

There  was  no  hesitation  about  her  answer.  '  Quite 
sure,  father  dear.'  Her  voice  was  low,  but  it  was 
level  and  steady. 

'  You  have  not  known  him  long,  ISTelL'  Helen  was 
silent,  and  he  went  on  :  '  Two  or  three  months  is  a  very 
short  time,  and  you  have  not  seen  much  of  one  another.' 

Helen  leant  her  head  against  his  shoulder  with  a 
mute  caress.      '  I  am  quite  sure,  daddy.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  gave  in.  He  remembered  his 
own  marriage.  He  had  not  known  his  wife  three 
months  when  they  were  engaged,  and  they  had  been 
very  happy.  The  time  had  not  seemed  short  to  him 
then;  and,  in  truth,  three  months  at  a  small  Indian 
station,  where  people  are  thrown  together  almost 
daily,  as  much  as  on  board  ship,  may  mean  a  fairly 
close  acquaintance.  'Very  well,  I  won't  say  any 
more.  You  ought  to  know  best,  and  he  is  a  very 
fine  fellow.      I  don't  wonder  at  your  liking  him.' 

Of  course  Helen  read  over  his  letters  again  before 
she  got  into  bed.  Was  it  possible  that  she  had 
received  them  both  since  the  morning  ?  It  seemed  as 
if  the  day  had  been  a  month  long.  Her  prayers  that 
night  were  an  outpouring  of  thankfulness  and  love. 
For   the   first    time   Guy's   name   was    mentioned    in 


XVI  GUY  WRITES  HOME  221 

them.  It  was  never  omitted  again  so  long  as  he 
Hved, 

Next  morning  Helen  was  up  early.  She  used  to 
go  down  to  the  church  sometimes  before  breakfast  to 
practice,  and  the  church  was  on  the  road  to  the 
cantonment  by  which  Guy  must  ride  in.  She  felt 
sure  that  if  he  saw  her  carriage  at  the  door  he  would 
come  to  her,  and  she  knew  they  would  be  alone.  It 
was  an  innocent  plot,  which  she  would  not  have  been 
ashamed  to  confess,  and  it  succeeded  as  it  deserved 
to  do.  Eiding  past  the  church  at  a  slow  walk,  half 
an  hour  before  the  earliest  time  at  which  he  could 
present  himself  at  Colonel  Treveryan's,  Guy  heard  the 
sound  of  music  and  saw  the  brougham  near  the  porch. 
He  turned  into  the  church  enclosure  and  asked  the 
coachman  whether  Helen  was  inside.  The  answer 
was  as  he  expected ;  and  handing  over  his  horse  to  a 
syce  he  walked  up  the  narrow  stone  stair  to  the 
gallery.  Helen  heard  his  step,  and  rose  to  her  feet ; 
and  there,  while  the  last  note  of  the  broken  music 
still  lingered  in  the  echoing  roof,  he  saw  her  standing, 
her  sweet  eyes  turned  towards  him,  and  her  sweet  face 
flushing  to  the  temples. 

There  for  the  first  time  he  kissed  her  lips.  It 
was  a  solemn  betrothal,  but  she  never  felt  that  there 
was  any  unfitness  in  it.  She  was  plighting  her  faith 
to  the  man  she  loved.  What  better  place  than  the 
quiet  empty  church,  where  they  would  be  alone  but 
for  the  presence  of  the  God  who  had  been  so  good  to 


222  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

her  ?  And  Guy  cared  not  a  straw  whether  he  was  in  a 
church  or  anywhere  else  so  long  as  he  held  her  in  his 
arms. 

They  drove  up  to  the  house  together,  one  of  the 
syces  bringing  up  Guy's  horse,  and  shortly  after  their 
arrival  Colonel  Treveryan  appeared.  His  manner 
was  quiet  but  friendly,  and  that  breakfast  was  a 
pleasant  one  to  two  at  least  of  the  three.  When  it 
was  over,  Colonel  Treveryan  carried  Guy  off.  '  Come 
along,'  he  said  with  a  smile,  laying  his  hand  on  the 
young  man's  arm,  '  we  must  talk  this  business  over 
seriously.  You  have  not  done  with  me  yet.'  They 
went  away  to  Colonel  Treveryan's  smoking-room  and 
sat  down.  Guy  would  not  smoke.  Colonel  Trever- 
yan's cigar  took  some  time  to  light,  and  while  it  was 
getting  ready  he  was  thinking  how  he  should  begin. 
He  had  spent  a  very  sleepless  night  pondering  over  it 
all.  Life  with  a  cavalry  regiment  was  an  expensive 
thing,  and  he  knew  little  about  Guy's  circumstances. 
His  own  means  were  not  large,  and  he  could  not  do 
much  to  help.  All  this  must  be  cleared  up,  though 
it  was  doubtless  all  right. 

At  last  the  cigar  had  caught  evenly  all  round 
and  was  fairly  started.  'Well,  Langley,'  Colonel 
Treveryan  said,  'my  daughter  showed  me  your 
letter,  and  I  understand  that  she  has  given  you  the 
answer  you  wanted.' 

'Yes,  sir.'  Guy  went  on  with  a  hesitation  and 
an  earnestness  which  became  him  well :  *  I  hope,  sir. 


XVI  GUY  WRITES  HOME  223 

that  you  do  not  disapprove.  I  know  I  am  not 
worthy  of  her — no  one  could  be;  but  if  I  do  not 
make  her  happy  it  will  not  be  for  want  of  trying. 
I  do  care  for  her,  sir,  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart.' 

His  eyes  seemed  trustworthy.  '  I  am  sure  you 
do,'  Colonel  Treveryan  answered ;  '  and  apparently  she 
does  not  think  you  unworthy  of  her.  It  has  taken 
me  by  surprise,  and  it  is  rather  a  wrench  to  me ;  but 
I  daresay  I  shall  get  accustomed  to  it  in  time,  and 
so  far  as  you  are  concerned,  I  can  only  say  that  as  I 
must  lose  her  I  know  no  one  I  would  rather  have  in 
your  place.' 

'Thank  you,  sir.  Of  course  I  can  understand 
what  you  feel  about  it.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  sighed.  '  Can  you  ?  Perhaps 
you  can.  Well,  now  about  business.  When  do  you 
want  to  rob  me  of  my  daughter  ? ' 

'  Whenever  you  will  let  her  go,  sir ;  the  sooner 
the  better.' 

'That  is  plain  speaking.  But — you  must  excuse 
my  asking  these  questions ;  I  am  her  father,  you  know, 
— how  do  you  stand  ?  Are  you  in  a  position  to  marry 
at  once  V 

Guy  was  conscious  of  an  uneasy  feeling,  but  he 
drove  it  away  and  replied  confidently  enough  :  '  I  am 
not  well  off,  sir,  but  I  think  we  could  manage.  I 
have  four  hundred  a  year  beside  my  pay,  and  I  dare- 
say my  father  would  do  something  more  for  us.' 


224  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

Colonel  Treveryan  did  not  look  convinced.  '  Four 
hundred  a  year  is  not  very  much  to  marry  upon  in  a 
cavalry  regiment/  he  said,  '  unless  things  have  altered 
since  my  time ;  and  I  am  afraid  I  cannot  do  very 
much  to  help.  I  could  give  my  daughter  three  or 
four  hundred  a  year  now,  but  in  case  anything  hap- 
pened to  me  she  would  have  very  little.' 

'  I  don't  care  in  the  least  about  that,  sir,'  Guy  said 
warmly. 

'  No,  but  I  do.  You  see  it  is  a  question  of  her 
comfort  and  happiness.  I  want  to  feel  sure  that  she 
will  be  provided  for  whatever  happens.  Is  the  money 
your  own?' 

It  was  a  little  cruel,  and  Guy  felt  hurt.  '  Two 
hundred  pounds  is  my  own.  My  father  allows  me  the 
other  two.' 

'Then  if  anything  happened  to  him  you  might 
find  yourself  with  only  two  hundred  a  year 
altogether  ? ' 

'  I  suppose  he  would  leave  me  something.' 

'  Suppose  he  did  not,  or  suppose  that  he  objected 
to  your  marrying?'  The  idea  had  not  occurred  to 
Colonel  Treveryan  before,  but  his  anxiety  for  his 
daughter's  welfare  had  quickened  his  apprehension. 

'  I  am  sure  he  would  not  do  that,  sir,'  Guy 
answered  confidently.  'My  father  and  mother  have 
always  been  very  fond  of  me,  and  I  am  sure  they 
would  do  anything  for  me.'  ISTevertheless,  as  he  spoke 
there  rose  before  him  a  vision  of  his  mother's  face, 


XVI  GUY  WRITES  HOME  225 

hardening  against  anything  she  disapproved ;  and  his 
voice  faltered  a  little. 

Colonel  Treveryan  looked  grave.  'You  must  not 
think  me  mercenary,  Langley.  So  long  as  Helen  is 
happy,  I  don't  care  in  the  least  about  money ;  but  I 
am  older  than  you  are,  and  I  want  to  make  sure  that 
there  is  just  enough.  I  have  seen  very  pitiable  things 
happen  for  want  of  it.' 

'Yes,  of  course,  sir,  I  quite  see  that.  Shall  I 
write  to  my  father  and  find  out  exactly  how  things 
stand?' 

'  I  think  you  had  better,  and  meanwhile  let  us  say 
nothing  about  this  business.  I  don't  want  to  be  dis- 
agreeable. We  will  manage  somehow  if  Helen  and 
you  remain  of  the  same  mind.  Only  let  us  clear  the 
ground  first,  and  have  no  chance  of  misunderstanding. 
It  will  be  time  enough  to  give  out  your  engagement 
when  everything  is  settled.     Don't  you  agree  with  me  ?' 

Guy  felt  keenly  disappointed.  He  had  never  con- 
templated this ;  though  he  had  certainly  not  thought 
of  money  when  he  wrote  to  Helen,  yet  there  had  been 
a  latent  assurance  in  his  mind  that  no  money  diffi- 
culties would  intervene.  She  was  an  only  child,  and 
Colonel  Treveryan  was  in  a  high  position  and  seemed 
to  be  well  off.  Still  he  could  not  but  acquiesce  in  the 
justice  of  Colonel  Treveryan's  views.  '  I  suppose  you 
are  right,  sir,'  he  answered  dejectedly.  '  I  will  write 
at  once.  I  hope  I  may  see  Miss  Treveryan  mean- 
while.' 

VOL.  I  Q 


226  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

'  Oil  yes.  I  don't  want  to  be  hard  upon  you,' 
Colonel  Treveryan  answered,  touched  by  Guy's  face ; 
'only  you  will  be  careful,  won't  you,  for  her  sake? 
Don't  let  people  have  a  chance  of  talking  until  all  is 
settled.  Now  go  and  see  her,  and  then  write  your 
letter.     The  mail  goes  out  to-morrow.' 

Guy  got  up,  and  Colonel  Treveryan  walked  with 
him  to  the  door.  '  Good-bye,  Langley,'  he  said,  as  he 
shook  hands  with  him.  '  Don't  be  down-hearted. 
We'll  pull  through  somehow.  It's  only  a  delay  of  a 
few  weeks,  and  you  can  come  over  as  usual  meanwhile 
until  we  go  into  camp.'  Nevertheless,  when  Guy  had 
gone  out,  he  shook  his  head  doubtfully.  '  I  ought  to 
have  thought  of  it  all  before  I  let  Helen  answer  his 
letter,  and  he  ought  to  have  thought  of  it  all  before  he 
wrote  to  her.     What  a  boy  it  is,  after  all ! ' 

Guy  found  Helen  in  the  drawing-room,  and  with 
some  hesitation  and  many  apologies  he  told  her  how 
matters  stood.  It  was  horrible  to  him,  he  said,  having 
to  speak  to  her  about  money.  It  would,  in  fact,  have 
been  very  much  pleasanter  to  avoid  such  troublesome 
subjects,  and  give  himself  up  to  the  unmixed  enjoy- 
ment of  his  dream.  It  was  a  disappointment  to  her 
too.  She  had  never  thought  of  any  obstacles  arising. 
Being  a  woman,  she  would  have  liked  to  let  her 
happiness  be  known;  and  to  her  frank  and  rather 
proud  nature  anything  that  savoured  of  concealment 
was  humiliating.  It  certaiuly  was  a  disappointment. 
However,  she  took  it  bravely.      She  laughed  at  his 


XVI  GUY  WRITES  HOME  227 

rather  sentimental  regrets  and  protestations.  Was 
it  not  enough  for  her  that  he  should  sit  holding  her 
hand  and  gazing  at  her  with  his  beautiful  sad  eyes, 
and  passionately  wishing  that  he  could  shield  her  from 
every  breath  of  trouble,  from  the  very  knowledge  that 
there  was  such  a  thing  as  money  ?  What  more  could 
a  woman  want  ?  '  No,  no,'  she  said,  though  the 
incense  was  sweet  to  her ;  '  I  am  not  made  of  sugar 
and  spice,  and  all  that's  nice.  I  can  be  quite  horrid 
sometimes ;  and  I  am  not  going  to  be  treated  as  if  I 
were  too  delicate  to  take  my  share  of  whatever  comes. 
You  will  find  me  dreadfully  hard  and  practical.' 

He  felt  a  little  chilled,  a  little  dissatisfied  with  her. 
She  did  not  seem  to  appreciate  the  poetry  of  his  love, 
the  desire  to  set  her  up  and  worship  her  and  keep  her 
apart  from  all  worldly  things,  like  a  goddess.  He 
never  thought  that  she  was  repressing  and  hardening 
herself,  and  trying  to  be  cheery  and  sensible  for  his 
sake,  when  she  would  have  dearly  loved  to  give  rein 
for  a  little  to  the  romance  of  her  nature.  '  After  all,' 
she  said,  '  what  does  it  matter  ?  You  will  get  an 
answer  to  your  letter  in  six  weeks,  and  we  shall  be 
away  in  camp  most  of  the  time.  It  will  pass  very 
quickly.' 

Guy  thought  this  cold,  and  was  hurt ;  but  she 
would  not  let  herself  admit  that  they  had  any  cause 
of  complaint. 

At  last  she  began  to  feel  that  he  was  unjust  to 
her.      '  Do  you  think  I  do  not  feel  it  ? '  she  said.      '  It 


228  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

is  just  as  hard  to  me  as  it  can  be  to  you.  I  hate  the 
idea  of  keeping  it  all  a  secret,  and  so  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned I  don't  care  one  atom  whether  you  are  rich  or 
poor.  If  you  had  not  a  farthing  in  the  world,  do 
you  suppose  it  would  make  any  difference  to 
me?' 

He  knew  it  would  not,  and  he  thought  she  looked 
more  beautiful  than  ever  as  her  face  grew  serious  and 
her  gray  eyes  flashed  with  something  like  contempt  at 
the  thought.  Yet  when  they  parted  he  rode  away 
feeling  depressed,  and  she  saw  him  from  her  window 
and  knew  that  it  was  so.  He  took  his  horse  down 
the  road  between  the  mango  trees  at  a  walk,  instead 
of  cantering  along  the  grass  at  the  side  as  he  used  to 
do,  and  his  seat  and  iigure  were  significant.  When 
he  had  gone  Helen  turned  away  and  sat  down  in 
her  easy  chair,  and  then  her  head  went  forward  on 
her  hands,  and  she  burst  into  tears.     Already  ! 

That  night  after  dinner  Guy  told  Dale  all  about  it. 
He  knew  so  much  that  it  would  have  been  dif&cult  to 
tell  him  no  more,  and  Guy  could  trust  him.  Dale's 
remarks  were  few.  '  I'm  awfully  glad  for  you,  old 
chap,'  he  said.  As  to  the  engagement,  he  thought 
Colonel  Treveryan  quite  right.  'That's  sound  enough. 
You  can't  expect  him  to  let  the  thing  go  on  until 
you've  squared  your  people  and  know  where  you 
stand.  But  you  say  there  will  be  no  trouble  about 
that.' 

Guy  looked  uneasy.      He  did  not  say  much  more. 


XVI  GUY  WRITES  HOME  229 

but  he  asked  Dale  to  promise  that  he  would  not  talk 
about  it. 

'  All  right.  I  will  keep  it  dark/  was  the  answer. 
'  You  know  me.' 

Before  he  went  to  bed  that  night  Guy  wrote  his 
home  letters.  It  was  an  awkward  thing  to  do. 
Facing  his  mother  quietly  in  the  silence  of  the  night, 
he  felt  convinced  that  she  would  receive  the  news 
with  anything  but  pleasure.  She  knew  nothing  of 
Helen,  and  she  would  not  like  his  marrying  in  India. 
Moreover,  he  knew  she  had  formed  other  views  for 
him.  Not  many  years  before  a  family  of  the  name  of 
Schneider  had  bought  a  house  near  Wrentham  and 
settled  down.  The  father,  a  quiet  old  German  stock- 
broker whom  none  knew,  had  died  soon  afterwards, 
leaving  a  widow  and  one  daughter.  Then  it  tran- 
spired that  little  Clara  Schneider,  with  her  fair  hair 
and  colourless  eyes,  was,  or  would  be,  a  very  rich 
woman.  Before  long  the  Schneiders  had  become  very 
intimate  at  Wrentham,  and  when  Guy  was  at  home  on 
his  farewell  visit  his  mother  had  shown  him  very 
clearly  that  nothing  would  please  her  better  than  his 
taking  a  fancy  to  the  heiress.  Guy  had  laughed  it  off 
at  the  time,  but  he  reflected  now  that  Lady  Mary  was 
a  determined  woman.  Then  again  it  was  not  pleasant 
having  to  ask  his  father  about  money.  It  was  espe- 
cially disagreeable  asking  what  he  might  expect  to  have 
at  his  father's  death.  However,  the  thing  must  be 
done,  and  Guy  sat  down  to  write  soon  after  dinner. 


230  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

At  midnight  he  was  writing  still,  but  soon  after  that 
he  laid  down  his  pen  with  a  sigh.  His  letters,  after 
all,  were  short  enough. 


Dearest  Mother — I  have  been  very  bad  about  writing  lately, 
but  there  has  been  a  good  deal  going  on  in  one  way  or  another, 
and  I  have  been  rather  busy.  Now  I  find  it  very  difficult  to 
say  what  I  want  to  say,  but  I  know  I  can  be  sure  of  your  love 
and  sympathy  in  everything  that  comes  to  me ;  and  just  now  I  am 
very  happy.  I  have  met  my  fate.  You  remember  my  writing 
once  or  twice  before  about  the  Treveryans  ?  Lately  I  have  got 
to  know  Miss  Treveryan  very  well,  and  I  feel  that  she  is  every- 
thing that  a  woman  can  be.  This  morning  I  have  seen  her,  and 
she  has  promised  to  be  my  wife.  I  am  afraid  you  may  think  I 
have  been  hasty  in  this,  but  I  really  have  not.  It  is  three 
months  now  since  I  came  here,  and  in  that  time  we  have  seen  a 
great  deal  of  each  other.  I  have  got  to  know  her  thoroughly 
well,  both  in  her  own  house  and  in  society ;  and  I  am  certain 
that  she  is  exactly  what  you  would  like  your  daughter  to  be. 
I  wish  you  knew  her  ;  but  as  you  do  not,  you  will  trust  my  good 
taste  ?  Helen  is  tall  and  graceful,  with  the  truest  eyes  in  the 
world,  and  an  absolutely  bewitching  manner.  I  never  saw  any- 
thing like  it.  Every  one  here  thinks  her  quite  perfect.  Natur- 
ally I  quite  agree,  though  she  says  she  is  not.  Her  father  is  a 
fine  old  gentleman,  and  was  in  the  Thirty-First  Hussars  years 
ago.  He  did  splendid  service  in  the  Mutiny,  and  is  a  great  man 
out  here — Commissioner  of  a  Division,  which  means  a  sort  of 
governor.  Do  write  me  a  few  lines  by  return,  and  wish  me  good 
luck.  We  are  of  course  saying  nothing  about  our  engagement 
until  you  have  heard  of  it  and  approved,  but  I  am  longing  to  let 
it  be  known.  Don't,  please,  think  I  have  been  wrong  in  not  tell- 
ing you  before.  I  had  not  said  a  word  to  Helen  until  last 
Sunday,  and  then  the  whole  thing  came  upon  me  suddenly. 
Of  course  I  had  thought  about  it  a  great  deal,  but  till  then  I 
did  not  think  she  cared  for  me,  and  it  was  no  good  talking  about 


XVI  GUY  WRITES  HOME  231 

it.  Good-bye  now,  dear  mother.  I  think  it  will  be  the  happiest 
day  of  my  life  when  you  and  Helen  meet  each  other.  Mean- 
while, believe  me  ever  your  loving  son  Guy. 

P.S. — I  am  writing  to  my  father  about  the  business  side  of  it. 


My  dear  Father — You  will  have  seen,  or  will  see,  my  letter 
to  my  mother,  and  I  need  not  repeat  what  I  have  said  in  it. 
I  hope  you  will  approve  what  I  have  done.  I  am  writing  to  you 
now  to  ask  you  very  kindly  to  let  me  know  how  I  stand  about 
money  matters.  Colonel  Treveryan  wishes  to  know  this  before  he 
agrees  to  our  marriage,  and  I  have  promised  to  write  to  you.  I 
told  him  that  at  present  you  allowed  me  £200  a  year,  and  he 
remarked  that  this  might  not  be  permanent.  I  hate  entering 
upon  the  subject,  and  for  my  own  sake  I  would  never  do  so  ;  but 
as  he  wishes  for  exact  information,  would  you  mind  helping  me 
in  any  way  you  can  ?  Colonel  Treveryan  says  he  can  allow 
Helen  three  or  four  hundred  a  year  while  he  lives,  but  that,  in 
case  of  his  death,  she  would  have  very  little.  I  hope  by  that 
time  I  shall  be  a  field-officer  at  least. — Believe  me  everyour 
affectionate  son  Guy  Langley. 

Guy  read  over  these  letters  carefully,  and  did  not 
feel  satisfied  with  them ;  but  he  did  not  know  how  to 
improve  them,  and  they  went  out  unaltered. 

The  next  few  weeks  were  not  altogether  a  happy 
time,  either  for  him  or  Helen.  A  few  days  after  Guy's 
proposal  Colonel  Treveryan  went  into  camp,  taking- 
Helen  with  him.  He  had  to  make  a  tour  of  inspection 
through  a  part  of  the  country  where  ladies  could 
travel,  and  he  felt  that  it  was  better  she  should  not  be 
left  in  Syntia.  Helen  and  Guy  were  therefore  separ- 
ated from  each  other.      Moreover,  the  departure  of  the 


232  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

Treveryaus  was  not  enough  to  prevent  some  idea  of  the 
secret  leaking  out.  Colonel  Treveryan's  servants  had 
formed  their  own  conclusions  with  regard  to  Lali 
Sahib,  as  they  called  him,  and  from  this  cause  or  some 
other  it  soon  became  known  to  Guy  that  the  thing 
was  in  the  air.  Dale,  when  questioned  by  the  ladies, 
replied  steadily  that  he  knew  for  a  fact  that  Guy  and 
Helen  were  not  engaged ;  and  Guy  himself  tried  to 
deceive  his  friends  by  casual  references  to  the  Tre- 
veryans,  but  it  would  not  do.  He  felt  that  Helen  and 
he  were  suspects,  and  Helen  felt  it  too.  Altogether, 
the  position  was  trying. 

There  was,  however,  for  both  of  them  the  consola- 
tion of  the  post.  Wlierever  the  Commissioner  Sahib 
might  go  his  mail  followed  him  closely.  The  horse- 
men who  cantered  along  the  soft  country  roads  to  the 
cluster  of  white  tents  under  the  trees  carried  in  their 
locked  canvas  bags  many  a  letter  from  Guy  to  Helen. 
She  used  to  sit  and  answer  them  in  her  tent,  while  the 
soft  breeze  played  through  the  open  doorways,  and  the 
little  bronze-green  fly-catchers  glittered  in  the  sunlit 
air  outside,  and  the  kingfishers  hung  quivering  over 
the  blue  waterpools.  Guy's  letters  were  the  more 
cleverly  written — full  of  untrained  poetry  and  passion, 
and  touching  enough  at  times  in  their  youthful  chival- 
rous enthusiasm.  Hers  were  quieter  and  shorter ;  in- 
deed, he  felt  and  complained  at  times  that  they  seemed 
curt  and  cold ;  but  they  were  very  sweet  letters 
nevertheless.      She  wondered  at  his  power  of  words, 


XVI  GUY  WRITES  HOME  233 

and  humbly  apologised  for  her  own  want  of  it ;  but 
now  and  then,  in  her  simple  language,  without  exagger- 
ation and  without  effort,  she  wrote  some  little  perfect 
womanly  thing  which  brought  the  tears  to  his  eyes, 
and  made  him  conscious  of  his  own  inferiority.  '  My 
darling,'  he  once  answered  her,  '  never  say  again  that 
your  letters  are  not  worth  having,  or  that  you  wish  you 
could  write  like  me.  Your  letters  are  far  better  than 
mine.  They  are  to  mine  what  a  violet  is  to  a  passion 
flower.  It  is  not,  I  hope,  that  my  love  is  less  true 
than  yours.  I  do  not  believe  that.  But  all  your 
thoughts  are  so  exquisitely  pure  and  good  that  your 
words  cannot  help  being  beautiful.  The  thought  shines 
through  them.  If  ever  other  eyes  should  see  our 
letters,  which  God  forbid,  it  will  not  be  yours  that 
suffer  by  the  comparison.' 

And  he  was  right.  He  was  beginning  to  learn  the 
lesson  which  is  vouchsafed  to  so  many  of  us.  There  was 
being  revealed  to  him  a  purity  of  spirit,  a  tenderness 
of  perception  and  feeling,  of  which  he  had  never  before 
imagined  the  possibility.  He  was  gazing  into  the 
wonderful  depths  of  a  woman's  heart. 


CHAPTEE    XVII 

THE    NEWS    ARRIVES    AT    WRENTHAM 

It  was  a  fine  spring  morning  when  Guy's  letters 
reached  Wrentham.  The  winter  was  past ;  the  rain 
was  over  and  gone ;  the  flowers  appeared  on  the  earth, 
and  the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  was  come.  There 
were  some  crocuses  and  violets  in  the  garden,  and  the 
golden  burnished  stars  of  the  celandine  were  beginning 
to  glitter  in  the  hedgerows.  One  or  two  primroses 
had  been  seen.  Evelyn  had  found  a  blackbird's  nest 
in  a  thorn  bush  as  yet  uncovered  by  leaves;  and  in 
the  home  wood  the  rooks  were  very  busy  indeed.  Be- 
low them,  in  the  little  corner  where  a  woodcock  some- 
times lay,  the  daffodils  were  fluttering  and  dancing  in 
the  breeze.  The  air  was  cold,  but  clear  and  sunny. 
Life  was  stirring  in  it. 

The  postman  generally  arrived  at  the  hall  during 
breakfast,  and  as  it  was  the  day  for  the  Indian  mail, 
the  Langleys  were  on  the  lookout  for  a  letter  from 
Guy.  Old  Pantling,  the  butler,  knew  Guy's  hand  very 
well,  and  his  decorous  manner  was  a  trifle  more  in- 
terested than  usual  as  he  brought  the  post  in  to  Lady 


CHAP.  XVII      THE  NEWS  ARRIVES  AT  WRENTHAM  235 

Mary.  '  Dear  me/  she  said,  as  she  looked  through  it, 
'  we  are  in  luck  to-day.  There  are  two  from  Guy.  1 
wonder  what  makes  him  write  to  us  both.' 

There  was  a  letter  for  Barbara  from  some  one  else, 
but  both  the  girls  turned  to  their  mother  to  hear  the 
news  from  India.  Pantling  cut  some  wafery  slices 
from  the  ham  on  the  sideboard,  and  deliberately  offered 
them  to  each  member  of  the  family  in  succession.  He 
was  rewarded  by  seeing  Lady  Mary  lay  down  her 
letter  with  a  face  like  a  thundercloud,  and  by  hearing 
his  master,  who  had  also  opened  his,  give  vent  to  a 
smothered  whistle.  The  girls  looked  up  inquiringly, 
and  Evelyn  said,  'What  is  the  news,  mamma?  Is 
anything  the  matter  ? '  Then  the  discreet  Pantling 
saw  that  he  was  not  wanted,  and  went  away. 

Charles  Langley  finished  his  letter,  and  looked  at 
his  wife  with  a  face  of  doubt  which  rapidly  changed  to 
one  of  dismay.  'We  must  talk  this  over  after 
breakfast,'  Lady  Mary  said  sternly,  in  answer  to  his 
look,  and  then  she  turned  to  the  girls.  '  Guy  is  quite 
well,  but  he  has  got  into  a  foolish  scrape;  nothing 
serious.' 

The  girls  saw  that  for  the  present  they  were  not 
meant  to  know  more,  and  they  asked  no  questions. 
Lady  Mary  read  her  other  letters,  and  spoke  about 
them  to  her  husband  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
Then  Charles  Langley  walked  off  as  usual.  Lady  Mary 
saying  she  would  come  to  his  study  in  a  few  minutes. 

After    she   had  given   some   orders  to  the  house- 


236  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

keeper,  which  she  did  in  a  perfectly  calm  and  level 
manner,  though  not  very  pleasantly,  she  walked  into 
her  husband's  room.  He  was  leaning  with  his  back 
against  the  mantelpiece,  and  one  heel  hooked  over  the 
fender,  but  as  she  entered  he  stood  to  attention,  and 
moved  to  one  side  of  the  chair  which  he  had  put  near 
the  fire  for  her.  She  came  up  to  him  with  a  very  hard- 
set  face,  and  remained  standing.  '  This  is  a  nice  busi- 
ness,' she  said,  with  a  tinge  of  contempt  in  her  voice. 

'  Yes  ;  what  on  earth  are  we  to  do  ? ' 

'  Of  course  it  must  be  stopped  at  once.  I  thought 
Guy  had  more  sense.' 

'  Yes,  young  ass  ;  but  how  are  we  to  manage  it  ? ' 

Lady  Mary  was  inclined  even  then  to  resent  any 
depreciation  of  Guy,  and  she  answered  rather  sharply 
and  inconsequently :  '  He  writes  to  you  about  money 
matters,  and  of  course  you  must  tell  him  plainly  that 
you  won't  allow  it.  I  don't  suppose  it  is  his  fault. 
They  have  taken  him  in  somehow.' 

Charles  Langley  looked  rather  helpless.  '  I  will 
write  of  course,  but  .  .  .  aren't  you  going  to  write  too  ? 
I  really  don't  quite  know  what  to  say.  You  see,  he  is 
his  own  master  after  all.  Supposing  he  were  to  insist 
on  taking  his  own  line  ? ' 

'Nonsense,  Charles.  He  is  a  great  deal  too  sen- 
sible, if  the  thing  is  put  plainly  to  him.  Just 
write  and  tell  him  that  you  cannot  approve  of  the 
marriage.  Say  that  you  are  giving  him  already  as 
much  as  you  can  afford,  and  that,  under  the  circum- 


XVII  THE  NEWS  ARRIVES  AT  WRENTHAM  237 

stances,  he  must  see  how  impossible  it  would  be  for 
him  to  marry.  It  is  easy  enough.  I  will  write  a  few 
lines  too,  and  make  it  quite  clear  that  the  thing  must 
be  given  up.  I  hope  you  see  now  who  was  right  about 
his  exchanging  from  his  regiment.' 

After  a  few  words  more  Lady  Mary  went  off  to 
her  own  room  and  sat  down  to  write.  Before  she  began 
she  thought  the  matter  over  quietly,  and,  considering 
all  things,  her  letter  was  judicious  enough.  She  did 
not  expect  any  serious  resistance  on  Guy's  part.  She 
was  unused  to  opposition,  and  did  not  doubt  that  in 
this  matter,  as  in  other  matters,  she  would  get  her  own 
way.  She  was  able,  therefore,  to  keep  her  temper 
under  control.  As  to  the  expediency  and  propriety 
of  stopping  the  marriage,  she  never  hesitated  for  a 
moment.  Such  a  thing  would  be  Guy's  ruin.  J^to- 
gether,  she  faced  the  question  in  a  resolute  but  temperate 
frame  of  mind.  It  was  annoying  of  course ;  but  boys 
would  be  boys,  and,  after  all,  a  little  firmness  would 
put  an  end  to  it  all.  There  was  no  need  to  write 
harshly.  It  would  hurt  poor  Guy,  and  make  matters 
harder  for  him.  The  best  way  would  be  to  appeal  to 
his  affection  and  common  sense.  Before  lunch-time 
the  letter  was  ready. 

My  dearest  Guy — We  received  this  morning  your  letters 
of  the  — th  February,  and  I  don't  think  you  will  be  surprised 
to  learn  that  they  have  caused  us  much  distress.  You  are  quite 
right  in  feeling  sure  of  my  love  and  sympathy,  for  you  would 
always  have  that  under  any  circumstances  ;  but,  my  own  boy, 


238  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

how  can  I  tell  you  I  approve  of  what  you  have  done  ?  I  Jo 
not  wish  to  say  a  word  against  Miss  Treveryan,  who  is  no  doubt 
everything  you  think  her  ;  but  you  know  that  as  it  is  you  have 
not  more  than  enough  to  live  upon  in  your  regiment.  How  are 
you  to  support  a  wife  and  family  as  well  ?  Your  father  can 
allow  you  no  more  than  he  does  already,  as  he  will  tell  you. 
Where  is  the  money  to  come  from  ?  You  say  Colonel  Treveryan 
might  allow  his  daughter  something  ;  but,  even  supposing  he 
did  so,  this  is  only  a  temporary  help.  In  case  of  his  death  or 
your  father's,  you  would  be  in  dreadful  difficulties.  I  feel 
certain  that,  if  you  will  think  it  over  quietly,  you  will  see  that 
such  a  marriage  is  impossible.  I  daresay  you  thought  we  could 
afford  to  do  more  for  you,  but  indeed  we  cannot.  We  are  not 
rich,  and  we  have  very  heavy  expenses.  Don't  think  me  unkind, 
my  boy.  If  I  believed  that  this  marriage  could  be  for  your 
happiness,  far  from  hindering  it,  I  would  do  everything  in  my 
power  to  bring  it  about.  Knowing  as  I  do  that  it  could  only 
end  in  misery,  I  am  obliged,  even  at  the  risk  of  your  thinking 
me  hard  and  cruel,  to  tell  you  that  I  can  never  consent  to  it. 
Do  take  leave  and  come  home  to  us  for  a  few  months.  How  I 
wish  you  had  never  gone  to  that  dreadful  country ;  but  it  is  too 
late  to  think  of  that.  Come  back  to  us  now,  for  a  time  at  all 
events,  if  you  will  not  exchange  to  a  regiment  in  England,  as  I 
asked  you  to  do  before.  When  you  have  seen  me,  you  will 
understand  it  all  quite  clearly.  Go  straight  to  Colonel  Aylmer, 
and  say  it  is  very  important  for  you  to  go  at  once,  and  that  you 
must  do  so.  In  the  meantime  I  need  not  say  that  I  feel  for 
you  most  deeply,  for  I  know  too  well  how  painful  such  a  thing 
must  be  to  you  ;  but  there  is  no  help  for  it,  and  I  am  sure  you 
will  be  brave  and  sensible. — Ever  your  loving  Mother. 

Charles  Langley's  letter  was  shorter.     He  had  tried 
to  rememher  and  reproduce  his  wife's  words. 

My  dear  Guy  —  I  have  received   your  letter,  and  I   am 
sorry  to  say  I  cannot  answer  it  as  you  would  like.     I  am  not 


XVII  THE  NEWS  ARRIVES  AT  WRENTHAM  239 

able  to  approve  your  engagement.  I  already  allow  you  as  much 
as  I  can  afford  to  do,  and  in  tlie  circumstances  you  must  see 
how  impossible  it  would  be  for  you  to  marry.  I  am  afraid  you 
will  be  disappointed,  but  I  don't  know  what  else  to  say. — I 
remain  your  affectionate  father  Charles  Langley. 

'  That  is  exactly  what  she  said/  he  thought,  when 
he  had  read  it  over ;  '  but  it  doesn't  read  very  well,  and 
I  don't  see  that  it  tells  him  what  he  wants  to  know. 
I  wonder  what  the  girl  is  like.'  And  there  came 
over  him  a  serious  doubt  whether  they  were  acting 
altogether  kindly  and  wisely  in  cutting  the  matter 
short  without  further  inquiry.  Guy  would  have  at 
least  ten  thousand  pounds  at  his  death,  and  he  had 
five  or  six  now,  and  evidently  she  would  have  some- 
thing. At  a  pinch  too  they  could  be  helped.  If  she 
was  a  nice  girl,  and  the  boy  really  wanted  to  naarry 
her,  it  might  not  be  such  a  bad  thing  after  all. 
Every  one  cannot  be  a  millionaire,  and  in  the  service 
one  can  live  pretty  cheap  if  one  chooses. 

Lady  Mary  had  no  such  doubts.  She  felt  that  she 
was  acting  solely  in  Guy's  interests,  and  that  for  his 
good  it  was  her  duty  to  deny  him  this  thing,  just  as 
she  used  to  deny  him  some  little  indulgence  in  his 
childhood.  It  never  occurred  to  her  that  she  might 
be  wrong.  She  was  never  wrong.  Her  mission  in 
life  was  to  keep  others  right. 

Lady  Mary  was  a  loving  mother,  with  a  very  high 
idea  of  Guy's  value.  He  was  a  boy  of  whom  any 
mother  might  have  been  proud,  and  to  her  eyes  his 


240  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

price  was  above  rubies.  She  overestimated  his  talents, 
and  his  good  looks,  and  all  belonging  to  him.  More- 
over, she  firmly  believed  in  her  heart  that  all  con- 
nected with  herself  were  in  some  way  a  peculiar 
people.  Though  her  grandfather  was  merely  a  success- 
ful lawyer,  and  her  husband's  ancestors  were  country 
squires  descended  from  a  successful  tradesman,  she 
had  persuaded  herself  that  she  was  a  person  of  very 
blue  blood  indeed,  and  that  the  Langleys  of  Wrentham 
were  something  altogether  out  of  the  common.  She 
had  the  pride  of  birth  in  its  commonest  English  form. 
Naturally  she  thought  it  would  be  a  terrible  mes- 
alliance for  Guy  to  marry  in  India.  She  knew  nothing 
of  Helen  Treveryan ;  and  she  rightly  attached  no 
importance  at  all  to  Guy's  brief  description  of  his  lady- 
love. If  she  had  given  herself  the  trouble  to  analyse 
her  own  idea,  she  would  have  found  that  she  pictured 
the  girl  to  herself  as  a  young  person  of  questionable 
parentage,  with  bold  black  eyes  and  a  shady  character 
and  vulgar  manners,  whom  it  would  be  impossible  to 
present  to  her  friends.  She  had  been  brought  up,  as 
most  Englishwomen  are  brought  up,  to  know  nothing 
whatever  of  India.  In  her  time  she  had  seen  an 
Indian  crisis  or  two,  when  the  British  public  had  been 
suddenly  fired  with  an  intense  interest  in  the  country, 
and  society  had  seized  upon  and  made  lions  of  any 
Indian  officers  who  happened  to  be  in  the  way — 
probably  the  wrong  men.  Then  the  excitement  sub- 
sided, and  well-bred   England   forgot  India  again  as 


XVII  THE  NEWS  ARRIVES  AT  WRENTHAM  241 

completely  as  if  that  wonderful  empire  had  no  existence. 
If  Lady  Mary  thought  of  it  at  all,  she  thought  of  it 
as  an  unhealthy  and  immoral  place,  where  some 
depraved  white  men  loafed  about  in  straw  hats,  beating 
Hindus  and  making  them  smoke  opium ;  and  where 
the  women  were  no  better  than  they  should  be.  An 
Indian  marriage  was  a  thing  that  Guy  must  be  rescued 
from  at  all  costs. 

Lady  Mary's  ignorance  of  India  was  but  an  example 
of  the  ignorance  of  Englishmen  in  general  about  the 
Colonial  Empire.  It  is  not  wonderful  that  our  colonies 
grow  restive  at  times.  It  is  rather  wonderful  that 
there  is  any  loyalty  left  among  them.  Even  now, 
though  some  men  of  mark  have  been  able  to  look 
beyond  party  interests,  and  have  tried  to  rouse  the 
nation  to  a  sense  of  its  greatness  and  its  responsibility, 
how  many  Englishmen  in  the  old  country  know  any- 
thing, or  wish  to  know  anything,  of  the  vast  England 
beyond  the  seas  ?  With  India  perhaps  a  spirit  of 
indifference  does  comparatively  little  harm.  We  are 
safe  enough  there.  India  is  not  a  colony  but  a  posses- 
sion, and  Englishmen  in  India  must  always  remain 
Englishmen.  They  will  always  of  necessity  continue 
to  fight  for  the  English  flag,  though  at  times  they  may 
fight  with  sore  hearts.  Perhaps  it  is  the  better  for 
them  that  they  should  work  on  in  obscurity,  far  from 
the  applause  of  their  countrymen,  cheered  only  by  the 
sense  of  duty  done.  Even  in  India,  however,  there  is 
one  danger.     Our  own  people  will  never  be  goaded 

VOL.  I  E 


242  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  xvii 

into  disloyalty.  They  are  only  a  few  thousands  in 
number,  and  they  are  constantly  recruited  from  England; 
but  if  we  teach  or  permit  the  three  hundred  millions 
of  Indians  about  them  to  look  upon  them  with  dis- 
respect, if  we  weaken  their  hands  and  encourage  all 
who  oppose  them,  then  sooner  or  later  we  shall  have 
again  to  fight  for  empire.  Eemember  the  Mutiny, 
when  your  churches  were  full  of  black-robed  sorrowing 
women,  and  realise  in  time  that  you  cannot  with  impu- 
nity permit  India  to  get  out  of  control.  The  way  to 
do  so  is  to  regard  your  countrymen  in  India  as  aliens, 
and  to  take  for  granted  that  they  are  always  in  the 
wrong.  They  are  not  aliens  :  they  are  your  own  kith 
and  kin ;  and  what  they  are  doing  you  would  do  if 
you  were  in  their  place.  They  are  English  men  and 
women,  who  have  walked  on  board  an  English  steamer 
at  Dover  or  the  London  docks,  and  are  in  no  way 
different  from  yourselves,  except  that  they  have  seen 
something  more  than  England  and  have  learnt  to  face 
danger  and  responsibility. 


CHAPTEE    XVIII 

THE    BEGINNING    OF    TROUBLE 

Guy  received  his  answer  one  hot  evening  towards  the 
end  of  March.  He  had  stayed  at  home,  waiting  for  the 
English  mail,  instead  of  going  to  the  Club ;  and  was 
sitting  in  his  long  chair  trying  to  read  when  his  servant 
came  in  with  the  letters.  Guy  took  them  from  him, 
and  saw  that  they  were  what  he  was  expecting. 
There  was  one  from  his  father,  and  one  from^  his 
mother. 

He  began  with  his  mother's,  and  as  he  read  it  his 
heart  sank.  His  first  feeling  was  one  of  conviction 
and  self-contempt.  Why  had  he  been  such  a  fool  as 
to  rush  into  this  impossible  thing  and  make  them 
despise  him?  He  opened  his  father's  letter,  and  a 
smile  came  into  his  eyes.  He  knew  the  history  of 
that  letter  almost  as  well  as  if  he  had  been  present 
when  Lady  Mary  sketched  it  out. 

Then  he  read  both  letters  again  carefully,  and  as  he 
did  so  a  change  of  feeling  came  over  him.  After  all, 
he  had  not  been  so  very  unreasonable,  and  their 
objections  were  at  least  open  to  argument.     No  doubt, 


244  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

if  he  married  Helen  they  would  not  be  rich,  but  so 
long  as  his  father  and  Colonel  Treveryan  lived  they 
would  not  be  so  very  badly  off;  and  Charles  Langley 
had  said  nothing  about  what  would  happen  after  his 
death.  Probably  he  would  leave  something  to  all  his 
children.  Altogether,  though  of  course  he  was  not 
surprised  that  his  mother  should  be  unwilling  to  see 
him  marry  a  girl  without  money,  yet  it  was  what  men 
did  every  day,  and  there  was  no  other  objection  to  his 
engagement.  As  he  worked  it  out  his  depression 
gave  way  to  resentment.  They  might  have  helped 
him  if  they  had  chosen. 

Then  a  vision  of  poor  Clara  Schneider  came  before 
him,  with  her  plain  face  and  light  eyelashes.  '  I'm 
hanged  if  I'll  do  that  anyhow,'  he  said  to  himself. 

It  was  very  hard  and  very  embarrassing.  Things 
would  come  right  yet  somehow ;  but  he  knew  of  old 
how  terribly  resolute  his  mother  could  be,  and  in  any 
case,  for  the  present  at  all  events,  he  must  confess  to 
the  Treveryans  that  he  had  met  with  a  distinct  refusal. 
It  would  not  be  an  agreeable  task.  Guy  did  not  admit 
to  himself  that  he  had  the  slightest  thought  of  giving 
Helen  up ;  on  the  other  hand,  he  did  not  at  once  set 
aside  Lady  Mary's  decision  as  regrettable  but  immaterial. 
He  was  fond  of  his  mother,  and  accustomed  to  look  up  to 
her.  He  was  not  weak  enough  to  submit  without  resist- 
ance ;  but  he  was  not  vehement  enough,  not  old  enough 
perhaps,  to  see  his  way  clearly  at  once.  His  mind  was  full 
of  trouble  and  doubt.     No  help  was  to  be  got  from  Dale. 


XVIII  THE  BEGINNING  OF  TROUBLE  245 

He  had  gone  away  for  a  couple  of  days'  quail-shooting, 
and  his  room  was  empty. 

The  next  day  was  Thursday,  a  holiday,  and  after  a 
restless  night  Guy  mounted  his  horse  to  go  over  to  the 
Civil  Station.  The  mornings  were  still  pleasant,  and 
as  Guy  rode  on  through  the  cool  fresh  air  he  felt  his 
spirits  rising.  They  sank  again  when  he  reached  the 
Treveryans'  door,  and  realised  that  he  had  to  break  his 
news. 

Colonel  Treveryan  had  just  returned  from  an  early 
ride,  to  see  a  new  bridge  which  was  being  built  by  the 
Public  Works  Department.  He  was  sitting  in  the 
south  verandah,  still  booted  and  spurred,  smoking  a 
long  cheroot,  and  reading  the  official  letters  which  had 
come  by  the  morning  ddh,  A  pile  of  them  lay  on  the 
table  with  his  helmet  and  hunting  crop.  He  sent  out 
a  salaam,  and  Guy  came  to  him  through  the  dining-room, 

'  Well,  Langley,'  he  said  cheerily,  as  he  got  up  and 
shook  hands,  '  what  is  the  news  ? ' 

Guy  hesitated.     *  Not  very  good,  I'm  afraid,  sir.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  looked  grave.  '  Have  you  heard 
from  your  people  ? ' 

'Yes.  They — I  am  sorry  to  say  they  are  not 
very  encouraging.  In  fact — I  think  perhaps  you  had 
better  read  what  they  say.  I  have  got  the  letters  here,' 
and  he  took  them  out  of  his  pocket  and  held  them 
out. 

Colonel  Treveryan  read  them  slowly  through  and 
put    them    down   on   the    table.      After   a    moment's 


246  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

silence  he  looked  up  at  Guy :  '  You  should  have 
thought  of  all  this  before  you  said  anything  to  us.' 

'  I  wish  I  had,  sir,  but  I  had  no  idea  there  would 
be  any  objection.     I  am  awfully  cut  up  about  it.' 

Colonel  Treveryan's  soft  heart  was  touched  at 
once,  and  he  answered  not  unkindly ;  but  Helen's 
happiness  was  concerned,  and  his  manner  still  con- 
veyed disapproval.  Guy  was  seized  with  an  ardent 
desire  to  clear  himself  from  any  suspicion  of  weakness 
or  fickleness,  and  he  broke  into  earnest  assurances. 
Nothing  he  said  could  ever  make  him  change,  and  he 
felt  certain  his  mother  would  come  round  in  time.  It 
was  only  a  question  of  time.  The  warmth  of  his 
professions  was  increased  by  the  silence  of  his  hearer. 
Colonel  Treveryan  listened  quietly,  and  was  inclined 
to  believe  him;  but  he  could  not  help  feeling  that 
Guy's  assertions  were  rather  vehement  than  steady. 
There  was  a  ring  of  doubt  and  trouble  running  through 
them.  It  was  not  a  tone  of  confident  self-reliance. 
'  The  boy  means  well,'  he  thought.  '  I  hope  he  really 
has  good  stuff  in  him.  I  hope  Nellie  has  not  made 
a  mistake.'  To  Guy  he  said  at  last,  '  Well,  Langley, 
I  don't  quite  know  what  I  ought  to  do  at  present.  I 
must  see  Helen  and  speak  to  you  again.' 

'  I  hope  I  may  see  her  too,  sir.' 

'  Yes,  if  you  wish  it.  Perhaps  it  will  be  just  as 
well.  You  had  better  stay  to  breakfast  and  see  her 
afterwards,  and  come  over  again  to-morrow  when  we 
have  thought  it  all  out.' 


XVIII  THE  BEGINNING  OF  TROUBLE  247 

Guy  accepted  the  invitation,  and  he  sat  down  in 
the  drawing-room  to  wait  for  Helen  while  Colonel 
Treveryan  was  dressing.  She  had  seen  Guy  ride  up, 
and  had  got  ready  as  quickly  as  she  could.  Guy  had 
not  been  five  minutes  alone  before  she  came  in,  as  he 
had  first  seen  her  come,  by  the  side  door  from  her 
own  rooms.  This  time,  though  she  looked  to  him 
more  beautiful  than  ever,  he  met  her  with  an  air  of 
embarrassment  which  she  perceived  at  once ;  and  as 
she  sat  down  the  smile  died  out  of  her  face.  Then 
he  began  his  confession. 

Poor  fellow,  it  was  hard  work.  He  had  known 
that  it  would  bring  her  unhappiness ;  but  he  had 
relied  upon  her  love  and  sympathy  and  strength,  and 
had  not  thought  of  her  pride.  It  was  wounded  at 
once  by  his  first  hesitating  words :  '  I  have  heard  from 
my  mother.  I  am  afraid  I  ought  to  have  written  to 
her  before.      She  objects  altogether.' 

'  Objects  ? ' 

'  Yes ;  she  says  it  is  impossible.  Of  course,'  he 
went  on  slowly,  '  it  makes  no  difference  to  me — you 
know  that  ? ' 

Helen  sat  silent,  her  hands  clasped  in  her  lap.  In 
her  heart  was  rising  a  fiery  indignation,  mingled  with 
a  sense  of  intense  disappointment.  At  best  it  was  all 
at  an  end  again,  for  the  present  at  least,  and  there 
must  be  another  long  period  of  waiting  and  conceal- 
ment. Why  should  Guy's  mother  have  the  power  to 
*  object '  to  her  ?     Why  should  he  stand  it  ?     As  Guy 


248  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

spoke  on  she  too  caught  the  note  of  doubt  and  inquiry 
in  his  voice,  and  it  vexed  her.  She  loved  him  and 
told  him  so ;  but  he  got  little  help  from  her.  She 
was  hurt  and  humiliated ;  and,  moreover,  what  could 
she  say  to  him  ?  If  his  heart  did  not  tell  him  what 
to  do,  was  it  for  her  to  tell  him  ?  Altogether  the 
interview  was  a  sad  one.  It  ended  in  silence  and 
constraint,  and  in  a  sense  of  injury  on  Guy's  part. 
Before  it  was  over  the  daily  hot  wind  had  risen  and 
was  moaning  dismally  round  the  house,  filling  the 
air  with  dust  and  veiling  the  sky. 

When  Colonel  Treveryan  came  in  the  three  of 
them  went  to  breakfast,  and  for  the  sake  of  appear- 
ances they  tried  to  talk  as  usual;  but  the  meal  was 
short  and  uncomfortable.  Directly  it  was  over  Guy 
asked  for  his  horse,  and  rode  off.  It  was  a  dreary 
dusty  ride,  and  Guy  was  disheartened  and  sore. 
Everything  seemed  to  have  gone  wrong  at  once. 
Surely  it  was  hard  that  he  should  be  blamed,  as  he 
felt  he  was  blamed.  He  had  done  everything  he 
could. 

When  he  reached  his  house  he  bathed  and  dressed, 
and  felt  momentarily  better,  and  then  sat  down  in 
solitude  to  think  it  out.  How  lonely  and  wretched 
the  house  was.  The  doors  and  windows  were  shut 
now  and  it  was  half-dark,  and  outside  there  was  no 
sound  but  the  ceaseless  moan  of  the  hot  wind.  What- 
ever he  touched  was  parched  and  covered  with  dust. 
After  some  hours  of  anxious  restless  thought  which 


XVIII  THE  BEGINNING  OF  TROUBLE  249 

seemed  to  end  in  nothing,  Guy  could  stand  it  no 
longer.  Mrs.  Aylmer  lived  close  by,  and  the  longing 
for  sympathy  and  help  was  more  than  he  could  resist. 
She  could  be  trusted,  and  she  had  met  his  mother,  and 
knew  something  of  the  world.  She  might  be  able  to 
show  him  a  way  out  of  his  difficulties.  Would  Helen 
like  him  to  go  to  Mrs.  Aylmer  ?  Perhaps  not,  if  he 
asked  her  just  now,  but  she  would  be  glad  of  Mrs. 
Aylmer's  help  hereafter.     Yes,  he  would  go. 

He  walked  over  in  the  afternoon  heat.  Mrs. 
Aylmer  was  at  home  of  course,  and  the  very  feeling 
of  her  cool  dark  drawing-room  was  a  comfort  to  his 
spirit.  When  she  came  in  a  minute  later,  with  her 
firm  hand  and  friendly  resolute  eyes,  Guy  felt  his 
burden  was  already  lighter.  She  saw  at  once  that  he 
had  something  to  say,  and  she  helped  him  out.  He 
found  it  much  easier  than  he  had  expected.  When  he 
had  told  her  everything,  and  made  her,  rather  against 
her  will,  read  his  mother's  letter,  she  sat  for  a  time  in 
silence,  thinking.  To  her  unconventional  mind  the 
position  seemed  clear  enough.  '  If  they  care  for  each 
other,'  she  thought,  '  there  is  really  nothing  to  prevent 
them  marrying  and  being  happy.  They  won't  be  rich, 
but  they  ought  to  manage  well  enough — if  they  care 
for  each  other.  I  wonder  how  long  Harry  and  I 
would  have  hesitated  if  we  had  been  in  their  place.' 
She  smiled  at  the  idea  of  any  such  thing  standing 
between  her  and  her  husband,  and  Guy  saw  the 
smile  go  across  her  face. 


250  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

'  Well/  he  said  at  last,  '  what  do  you  think  ? ' 

Mrs.  Aylmer  gave  him  back  his  letter.  'Mr. 
Langley,  you  won't  mind  my  speaking  quite  plainly  ? ' 

'  Of  course  not.  That  is  just  what  I  want  you  to 
do.     Please  say  exactly  what  you  think.' 

'  Very  well.  Then  I  think  it  all  depends  on  one 
thing.      Do  you  really  care  for  Miss  Treveryan  ? ' 

'  If  I  had  not  cared  for  her  I  should  not  have 
asked  her  to  marry  me.' 

'  I  am  not  so  sure.  You  may  have  cared  for  her 
enough  to  marry  her  if  all  went  well,  and  yet  not 
care  very  deeply  in  reality.' 

'  That  is  not  complimentary  to  me.' 

'Perhaps  not,  but  I  want  to  make  quite  sure. 
What  is  the  very  worst  that  could  happen  to  you 
if  you  married  ?  You  might  possibly  be  left  with 
your  profession  and  £200  a  year.      Isn't  that  right  ? ' 

'  If  my  father  died,  and  if  he  left  me  nothing ;  but 
that  is  very  unlikely.' 

'  No  ;  I  mean  if  he  refused  to  agree  to  your  marriage 
and  stopped  your  allowance.' 

'  He  would  never  do  that.' 

'  But  he  could  if  he  chose  ? ' 

'  Yes — of  course  he  could  ;  but  he  wouldn't.' 

'  If  he  did  you  could  not  remain  in  the  Thirtieth. 
At  all  events,  you  could  never  go  home  with  them  ? ' 

'  No,  I  suppose  not.' 

'  Well,  when  I  say  do  you  care  for  Miss  Treveryan, 
I  mean  do  you  care  for  her  enough  to  stick  to  her 


XVIII  THE  BEGINNING  OF  TROUBLE  251 

even  then,  to  give  np  your  own  people  for  her  sake, 
if  necessary,  and  to  leave  the  regiment  and  stay  in 
India  ? ' 

'  That  is  a  long  way  off,  and  besides,  Colonel 
Treveryan  said  he  could  help  us.' 

'  Just  now,  yes  ;  but  if  anything  happened  to  him 
she  would  have  little  or  nothing  ? ' 

'  I  believe  not — not  much  anyhow.' 

'  Very  well- — then  it  might  possibly  come  to 
that  ? ' 

'  Yes,  I  suppose  it  might.' 

'  If  it  did,  do  you  care  for  her  enough  to  marry 
her  and  not  to  repent  your  marriage  afterwards,  and 
let  her  know  you  repented  it  ? ' 

'  I  don't  believe  my  people  would  ever  behave  like 
that.' 

'  But  if  they  did  ?  You  really  must  face  this,  Mr. 
Langley,  and  not  trust  to  chance.' 

Guy  was  silent  for  a  time ;  then  he  raised  his 
head  and  met  her  eyes  steadily,  with  a  look  of  defiance 
in  his  own. 

'  I  should  never  repent  it  if  Helen  did  not.  I  care 
more  for  her  than  all  the  world  put  together.' 

Mrs.  Aylmer  was  watching  his  face.  What  she 
saw  and  heard  seemed  to  satisfy  her.  '  Then  I  don't 
see  why  you  should  be  troubled.  Make  up  your 
mind  that  you  won't  let  anything  come  between  you. 
She  won't  repent  it  if  you  don't.  You  may  take  my 
word  for  that ;  and  you  know  it  as  well  as  I  do.' 


252  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

'  Yes ;  I  tliink  I  do.  Theu  you  don't  think  we 
need  be  unhappy  about  this  ? ' 

'  Not  in  the  least,  if  you  really  care  for  each  other. 
But  don't  deceive  yourself  about  that.' 

Guy  got  up,  and  came  to  her  with  his  hand  out. 
'Thank  you  a  thousand  times.  You  have  made  me 
happy  again.  I  am  so  glad  I  came  to  you.  You  will 
help  me  through,  won't  you  ? ' 

Mrs.  Aylmer  rose  too,  and  took  his  proffered  hand. 
'  Yes,  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  help  you,  but  you  will  be 
true  to  her  ?     My  only  real  doubt  has  been  .  .   .' 

^  Yes  ? ' 

'  You  will  not  be  vexed  ? ' 

'  No — nothing  you  could  say  would  vex  me.' 

'  My  only  doubt  has  been  whether  you  quite  under- 
stood your  own  good  luck.  There  are  very  few  girls 
like  her,  Mr.  Langley.' 

In  his  present  mood  the  words  went  straight  to  his 
heart.  He  did  not  resent  them  in  the  smallest  degree 
— far  from  it.  In  a  sense  they  were  flattering  to  him, 
for  they  showed  that  others  could  see  what  a  prize  he 
had  won.  Moreover,  just  then  he  would  have  stood 
anything  from  Mrs.  Aylmer.  For  the  moment  he  was 
more  than  half  in  love  with  her  as  well  as  Helen. 
His  eyes  grew  moist.  '  I  know  I  am  not  worthy  of 
her,  and  never  can  be,'  he  said ;  '  but  I  will  try.' 

When  Guy  left  Mrs.  Aylmer's  room,  his  courage 
had  returned  to  him,  and  he  wondered  that  it  had  ever 
fallen  so  low.      She  had  promised  to  write  to  Lady 


XVIII  THE  BEGINNING  OF  TROUBLE  253 

Mary  herself.  '  But  I  must  see  Miss  Treveryan  first/ 
she  said  with  a  smile  ;  '  perhaps  she  will  be  glad  of  the 
chance  of  getting  rid  of  you.'  Guy  met  the  suggestion 
with  a  happy  laugh ;  he  had  no  fears  on  that  point. 

When  he  was  gone  Mrs.  Aylmer  sat  for  a  time 
thinking.  '  I  wonder  whether  I  have  done  right/  she 
said  to  herself.  '  I  wonder  whether  he  really  cares  for 
her  ?  It  is  no  business  of  mine  either,  and  I  daresay 
I  shall  get  no  thanks  for  meddling.  Well,  it  can't  be 
helped  now.  He  is  a  dear  boy,  and  she  is  too  good  to 
be  made  unhappy  if  I  can  do  anything  to  stop  it. 
What  a  pity  she  has  no  mother — poor  child.'  Mrs. 
Aylmer  was  a  woman  of  action,  and  she  felt  that  the 
sooner  she  saw  Helen  the  better.  Colonel  Aylmer 
was  at  home,  in  his  den,  and  she  went  to  tell  him 
about  it ;  but  before  doing  so  she  ordered  hex  brougham. 
He  took  her  news  quietly  enough,  and  made  no  objec- 
tion. It  was  not  their  business,  he  said ;  but  if  his 
wife  thought  fit  to  take  it  up,  he  had  no  doubt  she 
was  right.  Langley  was  a  fine  young  fellow,  and 
he  could  not  have  fallen  in  love  with  a  nicer  girl.  '  If 
you  do  get  a  rap  over  the  knuckles,  you  must  make 
the  best  of  it,  and  be  more  careful  another  time.' 

When  Mrs.  Aylmer  drove  up  to  the  Treveryans' 
door,  she  wished  for  a  moment  that  she  had  kept  out 
of  the  whole  thing,  but  she  had  not  much  time  for 
regret.  Eather  to  her  surprise  she  was  told  that  Helen 
was  at  home,  and  she  walked  into  the  drawing-room 
and  sat  down.      A  minute  later  Helen  came  in,  with  a 


254  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

smile  on  her  face.  Mrs.  Aylmer  could  not  help  doubt- 
ing for  the  moment  whether  the  sirl  knew  her  own  mind. 
Surely,  if  she  cared  for  Guy  Langley,  she  would  have 
been  more  distressed  and  upset  by  the  morning's  news. 
Mrs.  Aylmer  did  not  know  that  Helen  had  half  guessed 
her  errand,  and  was  meeting  her  resolutely,  hoping  for 
comfort,  but  determined  to  show  no  sign  of  suffering 
if  her  guess  were  wrong.  '  How  nice  of  you  to  come 
and  see  me,'  Helen  said  brightly,  with  her  hand  out ; 
and  as  she  came  close  it  was  evident,  in  spite  of  her 
efforts  to  hide  it,  that  she  had  been  crying. 

Mrs.  Aylmer's  heart  smote  her  as  she  thought  of 
the  motherless  girl  alone  in  that  big  empty  house. 
She  kissed  Helen  gently.  '  I  came  to  help  you,  dear, 
if  you  will  let  me.  Mr.  Langley  has  been  to  see  me 
to-day,  and  I  thought  perhaps  I  might  be  a  little  com- 
fort to  you.'  She  knew  then  that  she  had  done  right 
in  coming.  The  flushing  face,  full  of  gratitude  and 
hope,  drove  away  all  doubts. 

Helen  asked  Mrs.  Aylmer  to  come  into  her  own 
sitting-room  where  they  were  secure  from  interruption, 
and  there  the  two  sat  for  an  hour  or  more.  As  the 
elder  woman's  sympathy  and  gentleness  won  Helen's 
trust,  her  reserve  disappeared  and  she  laid  bare  all  her 
sorrow.  She  told  Mrs.  Aylmer  that  she  had  been 
talking  to  Colonel  Treveryan,  and  that  it  had  been 
very  miserable.  He  had  been  inclined  to  blame  Guy, 
and  had  seemed  very  worried  and  upset.  She  had  not 
known  what  to  do,  and  she  did  not  know  now.      She 


XVIII  THE  BEGINNING  OF  TROUBLE  255 

could  not  say  she  did  not  care  for  Guy,  or  that  she 
was  ready  to  give  him  up  if  he  was  unchanged  ;  and 
yet  she  did  not  want  to  come  between  him  and  his 
people ;  and  she  would  not  remain  engaged  to  him  for 
a  single  hour  if  it  would  be  happier  for  him  to  be  set 
free.  '  Only,  if  that  is  to  be  the  end,'  she  said,  with  a 
momentary  break  in  her  voice,  '  why  did  he  make  me 
care  for  him  ?     We  were  so  happy  before.' 

Mrs.  Aylmer  drew  the  brown  head  on  to  her 
shoulder,  and  petted  it  as  she  would  have  petted  a 
child's.  '  It  won't  be  the  end,  dear.  All  this  will 
blow  over  in  a  few  weeks,  and  you  will  be  as  happy 
as  the  day  is  long.  You  would  never  have  doubted  it 
if  you  had  heard  him  speak  to  me  to-day.  He  told 
me  he  cared  for  you  more  than  all  the  world,  and  I 
am  certain  he  does.  It  is  your  comfort  and  happiness 
that  he  is  thinking  of.  He  never  expected  this ;  and 
of  course  it  is  very  troublesome,  but  it  will  all  blow 
over.  You  must  never  think  of  giving  him  up.  You 
would  only  make  him  unhappy.'  So  she  went  on, 
comforting  the  girl  with  gentle  words,  and  telling  her 
what  she  longed  to  hear,  and  was  only  too  glad  to  be- 
lieve, until  the  sore  young  heart  was  whole  again,  and 
the  sad  young  eyes  bright  with  happiness.  Then  she 
sent  Helen  to  see  whether  Colonel  Treveryan  had  done 
his  work.  '  He  will  think  me  a  horrid  meddlesome 
match-making  woman,  and  very  likely  turn  me  out 
of  the  house,  but  I  don't  care.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  had  done  his  work.     It  was  half- 


256  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

past  five,  and  he  was  just  coming  into  the  drawing- 
room  for  some  tea  when  Helen  met  him.  He  was 
looking  very  weary  and  sad.  Throughout  the  day  the 
remembrance  of  Helen  had  been  before  him,  making 
his  work  doubly  hard ;  and  he  had  found  himself 
thinking  more  bitterly  than  ever  of  the  grave  where 
his  wife  was  lying.  If  she  could  only  come  back 
now  for  one  hour,  not  for  his  sake,  but  for  the  sake 
of  her  child — the  child  whom  she  had  loved  so  dearly 
and  given  up.  Never  !  Never  !  She  was  far  beyond 
the  reach  of  his  longing.  Never  again  would  he  see 
the  pale  tired  face  and  gentle  patient  eyes,  and  hear 
the  low  voice  that  had  been  music  to  him.  '  But  for 
India,'  he  thought,  'she  might  be  living  now.  Why 
did  I  let  her  come  out  to  me  ? '  How  many  men  have 
writhed  under  the  torture  of  that  thought,  and  cursed 
the  land  of  exile  ? 

Mrs.  Aylmer  found  Colonel  Treveryan  by  no  means 
disposed  to  resent  her  interference.  He  knew  too  well 
the  value  of  a  woman's  help,  and  he  liked  Mrs.  Aylmer 
herself.  He  spoke  to  her  quite  openly.  He  was  hurt 
at  the  idea  of  his  daughter  being  placed  in  such  a 
position,  and  he  said  so  ;  but  he  saw  that  her  happiness 
was  involved,  and  he  made  no  secret  of  his  hope  that  the 
marriage  might  not  be  broken  off.  He  could,  he  said, 
give  them  five  hundred  a  year,  and  would  give  them  as 
much  more  as  he  could  save  after  spending  what  it  was 
his  duty  to  spend  in  entertainment  and  the  like.  He 
was  very  glad  to  hear  that  Guy  had  spoken  so  strongly, 


XVIII  THE  BEGINNING  OF  TROUBLE  257 

and  seemed  so  determined  in  the  matter.  It  seemed 
to  him  inconceivable  that  a  man  could  hesitate  in  such 
a  case.  Eventually  it  was  agreed  that  an  effort  should 
be  made  by  Mrs.  Aylmer  and  Guy  to  settle  matters 
with  Lady  Mary,  and  that,  in  the  meantime,  the  affair 
should  be  kept  quiet.  Helen  was  to  go  to  Mussooree, 
and  take  care  of  Mabs  and  her  French  governess 
whom  Mrs.  Aylmer  wanted  to  send  to  the  hills  at 
once.  The  young  people  were  not  to  be  forbidden  to 
write  to  one  another,  but  until  things  were  settled 
it  would  be  better  to  let  others  have  no  chance  of 
talking. 

Mrs.  Aylmer  went  away  that  evening  with  a  light 
heart,  leaving  Colonel  Treveryan's  brow  cleared  and 
Helen's  eyes  shining  with  happiness.  ISTevertheless,  as 
she  drove  through  the  gathering  darkness,  enjoying  the 
cool  evening  air  which  came  through  her  window,  she 
felt  that  there  might  be  trouble  ahead  of  her.  She 
knew  little  of  Lady  Mary,  but  she  had  seen  her  and 
recognised  in  her  a  determined  character.  '  Well,' 
she  thought,  *  if  her  ladyship  chooses  to  stand  out, 
it  is  Mr.  Langiey's  affair.  He  will  have  done  all 
he  can,  and  will  be  in  the  right.  I  daresay  he 
can  be  pretty  obstinate  too  if  he  is  once  roused ; 
and  really,  they  have  not  the  smallest  cause  to  object. 
It  is  quite  as  good  a  match  as  they  could  expect  for 
him.' 

A  week  later  Helen  was  away  among  the  pines 
and    rhododendrons    of   Mussooree,    and    two    letters 

VOL.  I  s 


258  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

addressed  to  Lady  Mary  were  on  the  high  seas.  Guy's 
letter  was  fuller  and  more  ch^cumstantial  than  his  first 
had  been.  He  dwelt  upon  his  affection  for  Helen, 
and  the  impossibility  of  his  giving  her  up ;  and  he 
wrote  at  some  length  about  Colonel  Treveryan's 
position  and  services.  He  begged  his  father  and 
mother  not  to  make  him  miserable  by  continuing  to 
withhold  their  consent.  He  did  not  in  so  many  words 
declare  his  determination  to  stick  to  her  whatever  they 
might  do,  but  he  said  no  word  which  could  be  held  to 
imply  that  his  eventual  decision  would  depend  on 
theirs.  Guy  asked  Lady  Mary  to  show  his  letter  to 
his  father ;  and  he  referred  to  the  fact  that  Mrs. 
Aylmer  was  going  to  write.  '  You  know  her/  he  said  ; 
'  she  is  not  a  bad  judge,  and  she  swears  by  Helen. 
If  you  don't  trust  my  judgment,  you  can  trust 
hers.' 

Mrs.  Aylmer's  letter  was  as  worldly  wise  as  she 
could  make  it.  She  began  by  apologising  for  her 
interference  in  a  matter  with  which  she  was  not  con- 
cerned. She  would  not  have  thought  of  interfering  if 
Mr.  Langley  had  not  come  to  her  of  his  own  accord. 
As  he  had  done  so,  and  as  he  was  in  her  husband's 
regiment,  she  hoped  Lady  Mary  would  not  mind  her 
writing  and  doing  what  she  could  to  clear  up  matters. 
She  could  quite  understand  Lady  Mary's  reluctance  to 
let  Guy  marry  in  India.  Many  of  the  girls  one  met 
out  there  were  anything  but  desirable.  But  in  this 
case  she  could  assure  Lady  Mary  that  there  was  no 


XVIII  THE  BEGINNING  OF  TROUBLE  259 

reason  whatever  for  regret.  Miss  Treveryan  was  a 
charming  girl  in  every  way,  thoroughly  ladylike  and 
refined,  unusually  well  educated,  and  exceedingly 
pretty.  Her  father  was  a  man  of  the  highest  reputa- 
tion, and  came  of  an  old  west-country  family;  He 
had  served  with  distinction  in  the  army,  and  was  now 
holding  a  high  position  in  India.  He  was  not  a  rich 
man  apparently,  but  during  his  life  he  was  willing  to 
allow. his  daughter  £500  a  year,  and  at  his  death  she 
would  no  doubt  have  a  little.  Altogether,  though  Guy 
was  young  to  marry,  she  could  not  help  saying  that 
he  seemed  to  her  to  have  made  as  good  a  choice  as  he 
could  have  made.  He  appeared  to  be  thoroughly  in 
earnest  in  the  matter.  She  felt  sure  that  if  Lady 
Mary  could  bring  herself  to  sanction  the  engagement, 
she  would  not  repent  it. 

It  was  near  the  end  of  March  when  these  letters 
were  despatched.  The  answer  could  not  come  till 
they  were  well  into  May.  In  the  meantime,  as 
before,  the  uncertainty  was  trying  to  all  concerned. 
Colonel  Treveryan  could  not  help  feeling  a  little  sore 
with  Guy  for  having  brought  on  the  affair  without 
being  sure  of  his  ground,  and  he  could  not  help  letting 
his  feeling  appear.  He  liked  Guy,  but  he  thought 
Helen  in  all  respects  Guy's  equal,  to  say  the  least  of 
it,  and  he  resented  the  position  for  her.  Guy  felt  he 
was  blamed,  and  thought  it  hard,  and  at  the  same 
time  he  was  conscious  of  a  doubt  as  to  the  thoughtful- 
ness  of  his  behaviour.     Helen  felt  humiliated  by  the 


26o  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  xviii 

knowledge  that  she  had  given  herself  into  a  family 
who  did  not  want  her,  and  also  at  the  idea  that  her 
position  was  probably  known  in  Syntia. 

It  was  not  altogether  a  pleasant  time  for  any  of 
them. 


CHAPTEE    XIX 

TRYING    TO    DO    RIGHT 

The  drill  season  was  over  now,  and  the  hot  weather 
had  fairly  set  in.  All  day  long  the  westerly  wind 
moaned  about  the  silent  houses.  The  air  was  full  of 
driving  dust  which  covered  the  trees  and  the  earth 
with  a  yellow  pall,  and  hid  the  blue  sky  though  there 
was  never  a  cloud.  The  earth  was  hard  and  cracked. 
The  thin  bony  cattle  found  some  kind  of  food  on  it, 
but  there  was  not  a  sign  of  green  in  the  bufnt-up 
grass.  Towards  evening  the  wind  dropped  and  the 
dust  settled  a  little,  and  the  white  people  came  out  of 
their  closed  houses  to  breathe  the  air,  which  was  hot 
still,  but  endurable.  It  was  a  bad  time  for  the  poor 
women  at  the  barracks  and  the  sad  languid  children 
who  could  not  ride  or  drive,  and  had  nothing  to  do 
but  to  saunter  about  on  the  dusty  grass. 

Then  as  ever  those  got  on  best  who  were  employed. 
Over  in  the  Civil  Station  the  work  went  on  as  usual. 
Colonel  Treveryan  and  his  assistants  got  through  their 
daily  task  somehow,  though  the  heat  of  their  courts 
and  offices  was  at  times  almost  more  than  the  European 


262  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

brain  and  heart  could  bear.  They  solaced  themselves 
with  hard  exercise,  after  the  manner  of  Englishmen, 
riding  and  shooting  and  playing  racquets  and  tennis. 
The  jungles  had  been  thinned  now  by  the  spring  fires, 
and  the  game  could  be  seen.  Near  the  station,  on  the 
sandy  river-bed,  the  quail  were  still  plentiful ;  and  the 
pig-sticking  was  at  its  best.  In  some  ways  the  hot 
weather  was  bright  enough.  No  one  was  away  in 
camp,  so  that  the  Civil  Station  was  full.  There  were 
always  the  evenings  at  the  Club,  and  the  friendly 
dinners,  and  the  moonlight  picnics.  They  got  through 
life  without  much  grumbling  after  all,  though  the 
thermometer  was  often  near  100°  in  the  shade,  and 
one  could  not  sleep  at  night  except  under  a  punkah. 

Among  the  soldiers  there  was  more  idleness  and 
more  ill-health.  Colonel  Aylmer  knew  of  old  that  in 
the  heat  of  India  there  is  no  enemy  so  deadly  as  want 
of  employment,  and  he  tried  hard  to  keep  things 
going ;  but  there  was  not  much  to  do.  Through  the 
long  afternoon  many  of  the  men  lay  on  their  cots,  idle 
and  miserable,  cursing  the  day  they  were  born ;  some 
of  the  officers  gave  in  too,  and  suffered  for  it;  Guy 
Langley  and  Dale,  however,  got  on  well  enough.  The 
latter  was  as  keen  and  merry  as  ever,  '  chivvying 
things'  and  playing  racquets;  and  though  Guy  had 
fits  of  depression  and  repining  against  the  injustice  of 
his  fate,  he  too  found  comfort  in  hard  physical  exer- 
cise. Then  he  had  Mrs.  Aylmer's  steady  sympathy  to 
turn  to,  and  his  correspondence  with  Helen.     No  doubt 


XIX  TRYING  TO  DO  RIGHT  263 

it  was  dreary  work  sometimes,  particularly  in  the 
afternoon,  when  he  felt  too  dull  to  take  any  pleasure 
in  reading  and  sleep  only  made  him  worse.  It  was 
fairly  cool,  with  the  house  shut  up  and  the  west  wind 
Mowing  through  the  wet,  sweet-scented  huskus  mat, 
but  it  was  dark  and  dreary ;  and  the  dinners  and  the 
picnics  seemed  to  him  utterly  lifeless  without  Helen's 
face  to  brighten  them.  However,  on  the  whole,  he  did 
not  find  that  the  time  went  very  slowly. 

Up  in  Mussooree,  among  the  pines  and  rhodo- 
dendrons, Helen  was  living  quietly  with  Mabs  and  the 
French  governess.  Some  of  Colonel  Treveryan's  friends 
were  there  for  the  summer,  and  they  were  glad  to  be 
kind  to  her,  taking  her  out  to  dances  and  tennis- 
parties,  and  trying  to  make  her  life  happy.  They 
would  have  done  it  for  her  father's  sake,  and  they 
soon  came  to  do  it  for  her  own.  It  was  a  pleasure  to 
have  charge  of  a  girl  who  was  always  well-dressed  and 
well-behaved,  and  w^as  ready  to  leave  the  pleasantest 
party  at  any  moment  with  a  cheery  willingness  which 
threw  into  strong  contrast  the  discontented  looks  of 
others.  Both  with  young  and  old  she  was  soon  a 
favourite,  and  the  budding  warriors  who  got  away  from 
their  regiments  at  the  beginning  of  the  leave-season 
were  soon  crowding  round  the  tall  graceful  girl  who 
looked  so  handsome  and  danced  so  well;  but  Helen 
took  their  admiration  very  calmly.  She  was  cheery 
and  open  and  frank  with  all  of  them,  but  she  seemed 
in  no  way  overwhelmed  by  their  attentions,  or  eager 


264  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap- 

to  be  in  the  thick  of  the  fun.  She  was  young  enough 
to  enjoy  herself  at  times  among  the  bright  faces  that 
thronged  the  'Happy  Valley ';  but  her  heart  was  often 
sadder  than  a  young  heart  should  be.  In  her  present 
mood  she  found  more  comfort  in  the  society  of  Mabs 
and  Eex  than  in  the  pony  races  and  the  dances ;  and 
many  an  afternoon,  when  she  might  have  been  among 
the  young  men  and  maidens,  she  was  wandering  with 
the  child  about  the  wooded  hillsides.  Mademoiselle 
Dufour,  the  French  governess,  was  a  quiet,  rather  dull 
woman,  who  found  Mabs  a  handful  and  was  always 
glad  to  be  rid  of  her  for  a  time.  She  used  to  get 
away  then  and  enjoy  her  only  pleasure,  poor  lady, — 
a  chat  with  a  compatriot  who  was  also  a  governess  in 
a  family  at  Mussooree.  Before  long  Helen  and  Mabs 
became  very  close  friends.  Mabs  liked  Guy  Langiey, 
as  all  children  did,  and  sometimes  she  used  to  talk 
about  him.  This  in  itself  was  a  bond  of  union,  and 
they  had  others. 

So  the  time  passed  until  the  middle  of  May,  and 
then  at  last  came  Lady  Mary's  answer.  It  was  one 
about  which  there  could  be  no  possibility  of  mistake. 

When  she  first  received  Guy's  letter,  and  Mrs. 
Aylmer's,  Lady  Mary  had  hesitated  in  her  purpose. 
Her  native  good  sense  was  not  yet  wholly  extinguished 
by  years  of  successful  tyranny  over  the  wills  of  others  ; 
and  for  a  moment  she  had  dimly  recognised  the  danger 
of  further  opposition.  Her  husband  had  more  than 
once  expressed  his  doubts.      ]N"ow  Mrs.  Aylmer  had 


XIX  TRYING  TO  DO  RIGHT  265 

built  her  a  golden  bridge ;  should  she  accept  it,  and 
retire  with  honour  from  a  position  which  was  really 
untenable  if  seriously  attacked  ?  Unhappily  her  hesi- 
tation was  shortlived.  Since  she  had  written  to  Guy, 
she  had  allowed  her  mind  to  dwell  upon  the  idea  of 
bringing  about  an  engagement  between  him  and  Clara 
Schneider.  Guy's  indiscretion  had  made  her  feel  that 
it  was  desirable  to  get  him  safely  married,  and  the 
more  she  thought  over  it  the  more  the  plan  grew  upon 
her.  In  all  ways  it  would  be  an  excellent  thing  for 
him.  The  girl  was  a  good  girl,  and  she  had,  or  would 
have,  eight  or  ten  thousand  a  year.  He  could  not  do 
better.  Lady  Mary  had  now  made  up  her  mind  to 
this  scheme,  and  she  could  not  give  it  up.  Moreover, 
the  thought  of  these  women  coming  between  her 
and  Guy  was  unendurable.  It  would  have  be^n  bad 
enough  to  have  her  plans  upset;  but  to  have  them 
upset  in  this  way ;  to  have  her  clear  warning  set  aside, 
and  Guy  encouraged  to  dispute  her  will,  that  was  not 
to  be  borne.  The  girl's  behaviour  she  could  under- 
stand. Of  course  she  would  do  what  she  could  to 
catch  Guy  and  keep  him,  but  Mrs.  Aylmer  ought  to 
have  known  better.  Her  interference  was  simply  im- 
pertinent, and  she  should  be  made  to  understand  it. 

Once  started,  Lady  Mary  rapidly  worked  herself  up 
to  a  state  of  fiery  wrath.  The  thing  she  could  least 
endure  was  insubordination.  It  enraged  and  blinded 
her,  and  made  her  fight  wildly.  Unluckily,  a  few 
hours  only   after   Guy's   letter   arrived,   she    received 


266  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

from  another  source  some  information  which  increased 
her  anger,  and  completely  removed  all  doubt  from  her 
mind.  A  friend  of  hers,  Mrs.  Danby,  had  a  brother 
who  was  holding  one  of  the  highest  positions  in  India, 
and  Lady  Mary  had  written  to  her  in  the  hope  of 
getting  Guy  an  appointment  on  the  great  man's  staff. 
She  had  not  mentioned  her  real  reason,  but  had  said 
that  he  was  quartered  in  Syntia,  a  dreadful  place, 
very  hot  and  solitary,  and  that  she  wanted  to  get 
him  out  of  it.  The  poor  boy  would  be  moped  to 
death. 

Mrs.  Danby's  answer  was  cordial.  She  would 
gladly  write  to  her  brother.  *  I  wonder  whether  I 
have  guessed,'  she  added,  '  why  you  are  anxious  to  get 
your  boy  away  from  that  horrid  place.  When  I  was 
staying  a  few  weeks  ago  with  Jane  Pitt  Wright,  whom 
I  think  you  know,  she  told  me  she  had  just  heard 
from  that  clever  son  of  hers,  and  that  he  had  been 
shooting  there  with  some  Indian  man,  and  had  been 
positively  so  hunted  by  the  daughter  that  he  had  been 
obliged  to  pack  up  his  boxes  and  run  away.  I  wonder 
whether  she  has  transferred  her  attentions  to  your  boy. 
It  is  quite  shameful  the  way  these  people  are  allowed 
to  go  on.'  It  really  was  too  bad.  There  could  be  no 
doubt  of  the  fact.  She  could  remember  that  Guy  had 
once  mentioned  Pitt  Wright  as  staying  with  the 
Treveryans.  Now  she  was  asked  to  let  him  marry 
this  bold  unprincipled  girl,  who  was  probably  as  bad 
as  she  could  be ;  and  the  story  of  Guy's  folly  must  be 


XIX  TRYING  TO  DO  RIGHT  267 

made  known  to  every  one.  She  felt  angry  and 
humiliated,  and  she  felt  that  she  did  well  to  be  angry. 
Poor  Helen !  It  was  a  dirty  trick  that  her  guest 
played  her  when  he  shook  hands  and  looked  into  her 
honest  eyes,  and  gave  over  that  lying  letter  to  her 
charge  ;  but  men  do  these  things  sometimes — English 
men. 

This  time  Lady  Mary  did  not  go  through  the  farce 
of  making  her  husband  write.  She  was  too  much  in 
earnest,  and  he  was  really  too  stupid.  But  for  Mrs. 
Danby's  letter  he  would  have  seriously  advised  a  com- 
promise, if  not  surrender.  So  her  ladyship  sat  down 
to  her  work,  and,  as  Chimp  would  have  said,  'let 
herself  rip.'  She  could  still  write  affectionately. 
Though  she  was  stern  and  clear,  she  yet  knew  the 
value  of  a  few  loving  words  as  an  appeal  to  Guy's 
feelings,  and  she  would  not  believe  that  a  few  months 
could  be  enough  to  overthrow  her  empire  and  make 
another  better  loved  than  herself.  If  Colonel  Tre- 
veryan  had  thought  it  strange  that  he  should  be  so 
quickly  supplanted,  it  was  natural  that  she  should 
think  such  a  thing  impossible. 

My  dearest  Guy — I  liave  received  your  letter  of  the 
— th  March,  and  it  has  made  me  more  unhappy  than  I  can 
say.  It  is  impossible  that  I  can  ever  change  my  decision 
about  this  miserable  business.  In  fact,  I  have  even  more 
reason  for  it  now  than  I  had  before.  I  know  you  believe 
all  that  you  say  about  Miss  Treveryan,  and  perhaps  you 
will  be  hurt  with  me  for  telling  you  the  truth ;  but,  my 
boy,   she    is    not   fit   to  be   your  wife.       You   remember  that 


268  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

young  Pitt  Wright  was  staying  with  these  people  a  few  months 
ago  ?  I  have  now  learned  on  the  best  possible  authority 
that  they  took  advantage  of  having  got  him  into  their  house 
in  order  to  try  and  entrap  him,  and  that  she  literally  gave 
him  no  peace  until  at  last  he  was  forced  to  go  off  quite 
suddenly  to  avoid  open  unpleasantness.  As  she  cannot  get  him, 
she  has  transferred  her  attentions  to  you.  You  see  I  know 
more  of  what  has  been  going  on  than  you  knew  yourself ; 
and  I  have  good  reason  for  saying  what  I  said  to  you  before, 
that  such  a  marriage  is  out  of  the  question.  Now,  my  boy, 
I  beg  of  you  to  come  home  to  me  at  once.  I  can  explain  things 
to  you  more  clearly  in  five  minutes'  talk  than  I  could  do  in  any 
number  of  letters.  Don't  let  yourself  be  influenced  by  any 
feeling  of  duty  to  a  girl  who  has  behaved  so  badly  to  you,  and 
don't  permit  Mrs.  Aylmer  to  interfere  in  the  matter.  It  is  no 
affair  of  hers,  and  I  am  astonished  at  her  presuming  to  write  to 
me  about  it  as  she  has  done.  I  never  cared  about  her,  but  I 
thought  she  had  more  sense.  Eemember  what  I  wrote  to  you 
before.  Even  if  this  girl  were  all  you  think  her,  it  would  be 
impossible  for  you  to  marry  her.  Your  father  and  I  know  too 
well  what  misery  such  a  marriage  would  entail,  and  we  can 
never  consent  to  it.  If  you  were  to  persevere  in  disregarding 
our  wishes,  which  I  know  you  will  not  do,  you  would  have 
nothing  left  to  you  but  your  own  small  means,  for  your  father 
would  at  once  withdraw  the  allowance  he  now  gives  you.  Do, 
my  darling  boy,  trust  my  love  and  care  for  you,  and  come  back 
to  me.  You  may  think  me  unkind  now,  but  you  will  live  to 
see  how  right  I  was,  and  to  thank  God  for  your  escape.  It  is 
the  knowledge  that  I  am  doing  what  is  right  which  enables  me 
to  be  firm  in  inflicting  pain  upon  you.  The  girls  are  well,  and 
send  you  their  best  love.  Roland  is  getting  on  very  well  at 
college. — Ever  your  loving  Mother. 

Guy  read,  this  letter  with  rage  in  his  heart. 
'  Cowardly  brute  ! '  he  said,  with  his  teeth  set.  Then 
a  doubt  flashed  across  his  mind,  from   outside  as  it 


XIX  TRYING  TO  DO  RIGHT  269 

were,  whether  there  could  be  any  truth  in  the  story. 
He  drove  the  doubt  away  instantly,  with  disgust, 
remembering  Helen's  eyes  and  voice ;  they  could 
not  deceive.  How  he  hated  that  man,  for  the  base- 
ness of  the  lie,  he  thought ;  really,  perhaps,  in  part, 
because  Pitt  Wright  had  despised  the  woman  he  loved, 
and  made  him  seem  weak  and  contemptible. 
The  letter  to  Mrs.  Aylmer  was  as  follows — 

Dear  Madam — I  have  received  your  letter  of  the  — th  March. 
You  are  right  in  supposing  that  your  interference  in  this  matter 
appears  to  me  wholly  unnecessary.  I  must  decline  therefore  to 
continue  the  correspondence,  and  can  only  regret  that  before 
offering  your  opinion  with  regard  to  my  son's  private  affairs 
you  did  not  think  it  desirable  to  make  more  careful  inquiries 
about  the  character  and  antecedents  of  the  young  woman  to 
whom  your  letter  alludes. — I  remain,  yours  faithfully, 

Mary  Langley. 

Mrs.  Aylmer  put  down  this  letter  with  a  dangerous 
glitter  in  her  brown  eyes.  '  What  intolerable  in- 
solence ! '  she  said.  '  Who  is  Lady  Mary  that  she 
should  dare  to  write  to  me  like  this  ? '  Then  she 
repressed  herself  and  laughed,  a  rather  grim  laugh. 
'Well,'  she  thought,  'it  is  a  lesson  to  me  with  a 
vengeance.  Never  again  will  I  interfere  in  other 
people's  affairs.  But  what  a  vulgar  letter  to  write  ! 
Even  if  I  was  wrong  in  trying  to  help  them,  she 
might  have  been  decently  civil.  I  thought  she  was 
a  lady  at  least.  I  wonder  wdiat  she  means  about 
Helen.  Some  nonsense  she  has  heard,  I  suppose.' 
Mrs.  Aylmer  was  honest,  and  admitted  to  herself  that 


270  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

she  had  laid  herself  open  to  the  rebuff;  but  Mrs. 
Aylmer  was  human,  and  she  resented  it  none  the 
less.  Lady  Mary  had  made  a  mistake  in  letting  her 
imperious  temper  vent  itself  upon  a  woman  who  was 
quite  as  determined  as  she  was.  From  that  time  Mrs. 
Aylmer,  who  also  thought  herself  in  the  right,  fought 
against  her  con  amove. 

Guy  came  over  after  dinner,  and  asked  her  whether 
she  had  received  a  letter  from  his  mother.  She  said 
yes,  and  he  was  too  much  engrossed  with  his  own 
feelings  to  ask  any  further  questions.  '  Then  you 
know  her  answer  to  me,'  he  said.  'Well,  I  have 
been  thinking  it  all  over,  and  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  only  thing  left  now  is  to  take  my 
own  line.  I  am  very  sorry  my  mother  cannot  see 
it  in  the  right  light,  but  I  cannot  let  this  interfere 
with  Helen's  happiness.  I  shall. write  and  tell  her 
so,  and  ask  Helen  to  have  me  as  I  am.'  He  spoke  a 
little  pompously,  with  a  touch  of  affected  calm  in  his 
voice.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  not  perhaps  quite 
so  determined  as  he  wished  to  appear.  He  had  come 
expecting  that  his  announcement  would  be  received 
with  surprise,  that  Mrs.  Aylmer  would  be  a  little 
alarmed  at  the  prospect,  and  inclined  to  argue  about 
it,  or  at  all  events  to  advise  consideration  and  caution. 
In  any  case  she  would  think  it  somewhat  heroic  of 
him,  and  applaud  his  unselfishness  and  resolution. 
This  being  his  view,  he  was  just  a  little  disappointed 
to  find  the  sacrifice  taken  very  quietly.     His  tone  had 


XIX  TRYING  TO  DO  RIGHT  271 

jarred  upon  Mrs.  Aylmer,  and  it  made  her  reply  seem 
cold. 

'  I  don't  see  that  you  can  do  anything  else/  she 
said.  '  You  have  gone  as  far  as  you  can  in  trying  to 
make  things  run  smooth.  ^N'ow,  if  Helen  will  have 
you,  and  Colonel  Treveryan  allows  it,  your  conscience 
is  clear  and  you  have  a  perfect  right  to  please  your- 
self.' 

This  was  not  quite  what  Guy  had  expected,  but  he 
answered  pleasantly;  and  very  soon  they  were  talking 
it  over  in  entire  agreement.  Finally  Guy  asked  what 
his  mother  had  said  to  Mrs.  Aylmer.  She  hesitated, 
and  then  produced  Lady  Mary's  letter.  After  all,  why 
should  he  not  see  it  ? 

As  Guy  read  it,  he  felt  his  face  grow  hot.  '  I  am 
awfully  sorry,'  he  said.  '  I  never  dreamt  of  your^being 
exposed  to  this  kind  of  thing,'  and  his  indignation  was 
aroused  against  his  mother.  It  is  almost  always  a 
mistake  to  be  rude. 

Next  morning  Guy  rode  over  to  see  Colonel  Trever- 
yan, who  was  ready  with  his  answer.  'My  dear 
fellow,'  he  said,  when  he  had  heard  Guy  out,  '  I 
thought  this  was  not  impossible.  The  end  of  it  is 
that  you  can't  count  upon  anything  beyond  your  pay 
and  two  hundred  a  year.' 

'Yes,  sir,  I  suppose  so.' 

'  You  can't  live  on  that  as  a  married  man  in  the 
Thirtieth.' 

•'  No.' 


272  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

'  Then  what  do  you  intend  to  do  now  ? ' 

'  I  thought,  sir — you  were  good  enough  to  say  that 
you  would  help  us  at  first.' 

'Yes,  I  did  say  so,  and  if  my  daughter  has  not 
changed  her  mind  I  am  still  willing  to  do  it.  I  have 
no  one  else  to  think  of  now,  and  even  when  I  retire 
I  suppose  I  can  always  manage  to  find  her  five 
hundred  a  year.  I  shall  not  want  much  myself; 
but  you  see  that  depends  on  my  life.  If  I  were  to 
die,  she  would  have  very  little.  What  would  you  do 
then  ? ' 

'  I  hope  there  is  no  chance  of  that,  sir ;  and  besides, 
I  believe  my  people  will  give  in  sooner  or  later. 
They're  awfully  fond  of  me,  really.' 

'No  doubt;  but  they  might  not.  If  it  came  to 
the  worst  how  could  you  manage  ? ' 

Guy  sat  looking  at  a  picture  on  Colonel  Treveryan's 
wall — a  couple  of  men  driving  to  cover  in  a  high  dog- 
cart. At  last  he  said,  '  There  would  always  be  one 
way,  sir ;  I  could  go  in  for  the  Indian  service.' 

'  Are  you  willing  to  face  the  chance  of  having  to  do 
that  ? ' 

'  You  did  it,  sir  ;  why  shouldn't  I  ?  And  I  would 
do  anything  in  the  world  for  her.' 

Colonel  Treveryan  looked  at  him  hard.  He  seemed 
earnest  and  truthful.  '  Very  well,  Langley.  I  will 
abide  by  Helen's  decision.  If  she  still  wishes  it,  I  will 
give  her  what  I  have  said.  I  shall  write  and  tell  her 
so  to-day.' 


XIX  TRYING  TO  DO  RIGHT  273 

'  Thank  you,  sir.  I  am  very  grateful  to  you/  Guy 
said.  '  I  don't  care  what  happens  if  only  she  will 
have  me.' 

He  rode  off  with  joy  in  his  heart.  After  all,  why 
should  he  worry  ?  His  mother  was  sure  to  come 
round,  and  meanwhile  they  would  have  enough.  It 
would  be  all  right.  Directly  he  got  home  he  sat  down 
to  write  to  Helen. 

My  darling — I  wish  I  had  better  news  to  give  you ;  but 
I  hope  that  you  will  not  after  all  think  my  news  so  very  bad. 
My  mother  still  refuses  to  agree  to  our  engagement.  She  says 
we  cannot  live  on  what  we  have,  and  that  it  would  end  in 
misery.  She  also  tells  me  plainly  that  if  we  are  married  my 
father  will  stop  my  allowance,  and  that  I  shall  never  get  any- 
thing beyond  what  I  have  of  my  own.  I  have  been  over  to  see 
your  father  and  tell  him  this,  and  he  has  been  very  good  and 
generous  about  it.  He  says  that  if  you  will  have  me.  he  will 
not  stand  in  my  way,  and  that  he  will  give  you  five  hundred  a 
year  so  long  as  he  lives.  With  what  I  have,  that  will  be  plenty 
to  begin  upon,  so  you  will  write  to  me  now  and  tell  me  that 
my  long  waiting  is  over  1  It  has  been  so  hard — almost  more 
than  I  could  bear  sometimes.  I  can't  imagine  why  my  mother 
is  so  unreasonable  about  this  ;  but  you  know  what  mothers  are. 
She  will  come  round  in  time  I  am  certain,  and,  anyhow,  we  have 
done  all  we  could.  I  do  not  care  a  straw  what  happens  to  me,  if 
only  I  have  you  and  your  love.  There  is  nothing  I  would  not  give 
up,  gladly  and  proudly,  in  exchange  for  that.  It  almost  made 
me  laugh  when  your  father  asked  me  whether  I  w^as  prepared,  if 
necessary,  to  give  up  the  regiment  and  go  into  the  Indian  ser- 
vice. It  seemed  such  a  little  thing  in  comparison  with  you. 
My  darling,  I  am  afraid  I  was  very  hasty  when  I  first  wrote  to 
you.  I  ought  to  have  thought  of  all  these  things  before  ;  but 
you  will  not  be  hard  upon  me  for  overlooking  them  ?  It  was 
VOL.  I  T 


274  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

my  love  for  you  that  drove  out  of  my  head  every  other  consider- 
ation. And  you  will  not  think  less  of  me  now  if  I  come  to  you 
with  little  besides  my  sword  ?  I  know  you  will  not.  Write 
soon,  and  believe  me  ever  your  own  Guy. 

Colonel  Treveryan's  letter  was  affectionate  and 
businesslike.  He  told  Helen  exactly  how  matters 
stood,  and  spoke  kindly  of  Guy's  behaviour  in  the 
matter.  What  was  the  use  of  blaming  the  boy  if  she 
loved  him  ?  And  really  he  was  not  much  to  blame 
after  all.  Colonel  Treveryan  begged  her  to  think  it 
all  over  very  carefully  before  she  answered,  but  he 
assured  her  that  if  she  were  still  of  the  same  mind, 
there  was  no  cause  for  hesitation.  He  could  quite 
well  afford  to  make  them  the  allowance  he  had  offered. 
As  to  Langley's  people,  they  probably  would  come 
round,  and  he  would  not  lose  anything  in  the  end 
by  his  marriage.  In  any  case  he  was  apparently 
earnest  in  his  desire  to  win  her,  and  quite  ready,  if 
necessary,  to  make  up  his  mind  to  an  Indian  career, 
which  would  remove  all  difficulties.  They  would 
never  be  rich,  but  they  would  have  enough,  even  if  he 
were  to  die,  '  Which,'  he  added,  '  I  have  no  present  in- 
tention of  doing  if  I  can  help  it.' 

The  two  letters  reached  Helen  one  morning  after 
breakfast,  and  they  aroused  in  her  a  painful  conflict  of 
feeling.  After  reading  them,  she  put  on  her  hat  and 
walked  out  of  the  house.  Mabs  was  '  practising  '  with 
Mademoiselle  Dufour,  and  though  she  had  a  nice  firm 
touch  for  so  small  a  child,  the  sound  of  her  piano  per- 


XIX  TRYING  TO  DO  RIGHT  275 

vaded  the  house  in  a  rather  distracting  manner.  Rex 
followed  Helen,  as  he  always  did,  and  the  two  of  them 
went  away  by  a  stony  path  through  the  wood  until 
they  reached  a  place  where  Helen  often  sat.  There 
was  a  broken  gap  in  the  trees  below,  and  looking  down 
through  it  one  could  see  the  plain  of  the  Dera  Dun, 
and  the  jagged  peaks  of  the  low  range  beyond. 

It  was  a  quiet  spot  where  Helen  knew  she  would 
be  alone,  and  as  she  sat  down  in  the  shade  there  was 
hardly  a  sound  to  break  the  stillness  about  her.  The 
rainless  hot  weather  had  lasted  some  months  now, 
and  though  on  the  heights  the  air  was  comparatively 
cool,  the  hillsides  looked  very  brown  and  bare. 
The  crimson  blossoms  of  the  rhododendrons  had  long 
disappeared  from  the  woods.  The  snowy  peaks  to  the 
northward  were  hidden  by  the  summer  haze,  and  there 
was  a  dull  yellow  glare  over  the  plains  to  the  south. 
Mussooree  itself  was  dry  and  dusty. 

Helen  took  out  the  two  letters  again  and  read  them 
carefully,  word  by  word,  and  then  she  sat  for  an  hour 
or  more  gazing  out  through  the  interlaced  branches  of 
the  trees,  deep  in  thought.  Now  and  then  she  altered 
her  position  unconsciously,  crossing  her  gauntleted 
hands  over  her  knee,  or  joining  them  in  her  lap,  or 
leaning  her  head  upon  them,  and  every  time  she  moved 
Ilex  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  up  at  her  without 
raising  his  head  from  the  ground.  Her  face  seemed  sad 
and  troubled,  as  if  she  were  working  out  some  prob- 
lem that  was  too   hard  for  her,  as  indeed  she  was — a 


276  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

motherless  girl  with  all  the  romance  of  girlhood  in  her 
heart.  At  last  she  put  her  face  down  upon  her  hands 
and  burst  into  tears ;  Eex  whined  and  got  up  and 
pushed  his  head  into  her  lap ;  then  she  brushed  her 
tears  away  and  controlled  herself.  '  Dear  old  Eex/ 
she  said,  with  her  face  working,  and  her  big  eyes  full ; 
*  I  have  always  got  daddy  and  you ;  haven't  I  ?  and 
that  is  a  great  deal  more  than  I  deserve,  my  king.  I 
am  going  to  be  very  brave,  and  not  let  the  noblest  man 
in  all  the  world  sacrifice  himself  for  my  sake.'  And 
then  it  all  came  over  her  again  suddenly,  and  the 
brown  head  went  down,  and  the  sobs  came  thick  and 
fast.  *  Oh,  I  can't,  I  can't,  Guy,  my  darling  ;  I  cannot 
give  you  up.'  The  storm  of  grief  swept  over  her  and 
left  her,  and  when  she  got  up  she  was  calm  again  and 
there  was  a  resolute,  almost  cheerful,  look  in  her  eyes. 
What  woman  is  there  who  is  not  capable  of  that  exalta- 
tion of  spirit  when  she  is  sacrificing  herself  for  the  man 
she  loves  ? 

She  walked  home  with  her  head  up  and  her  grace- 
ful figure  erect  as  ever,  and  went  straight  to  her  room. 
The  post  for  Syntia  left  in  the  evening ;  she  would 
not  delay.  What  had  to  be  done  had  better  be  done 
at  once  before  she  faltered  again.  The  words  came  to 
her  readily,  and  she  felt  strong  and  almost  happy.  '  I 
am  doing  right,  and  God  is  helping  me,'  she  thought, 
in  her  simple,  natural  faith. 

My  dearest — What  I  am  going  to  say  will  give  you  pain, 
hut  some  day  you  will  see  that  I  was  right,  and  this  makes  me 


XIX  TRYING  TO  DO  RIGHT  277 

able  to  say  it.  I  cannot  accept  the  sacrifice  you  are  ready  to 
make  for  me.  It  would  be  a  cruel  thing  to  take  advantage  of 
your  unselfishness  and  let  you  throw  away  everything  to  make 
me  happy.  If  your  mother's  answer  had  been  different,  you 
know  how  gladly  I  should  have  done  whatever  you  wished,  but 
I  cannot  come  between  you  and  her,  and  cut  you  off  from  all 
your  own  people.  I  should  always  feel  I  had  done  wrong,  and 
in  time  you  might  come  to  hate  me  for  it,  and  we  should  both 
be  miserable.  I  could  not  bear  that.  We  shall  not  be  very 
happy  now  just  at  first,  for  I  know  you  do  care  for  me  ;  but  you 
will  soon  see  that  it  was  best  for  you,  and  once  I  know  that  you 
are  content  I  shall  be  so.  Don't  ever  think  of  me.  I  shall 
always  be  glad  and  proud  to  think  that  I  was  something  to  you 
once,  and  that  I  was  not  selfish  enough  to  ruin  your  life.  Now, 
good-bye.  Send  me  one  line  to  let  me  know  that  you  under- 
stand me  and  forgive  me,  but  don't  try  to  make  me  change  my 
mind.  I  know  it  would  be  wrong,  and  I  cannot  do  it.  God 
bless  you,  and  make  you  very  happy  some  day.  Helen. 

This  letter  was  duly  despatched  the  same  evening, 
with  one  to  Colonel  Treveryan,  telling  him  what*Helen 
had  done.  She  said  that  she  had  thought  it  over  very 
carefully,  and  felt  it  would  be  wrong  to  accept  Guy's 
offer.  She  had  therefore  told  him  so,  and  everything 
was  at  an  end  between  them.  '  So  you  will  have  me 
turning  up  again,  daddy,  like  a  bad  halfpenny,  and  will 
have  to  make  up  your  mind  to  keep  me  for  good.'  Her 
self-sacrifice  was  none  the  less  true  and  brave  for  the 
fact  that  she  sobbed  herself  to  sleep  that  night  after 
hours  of  despairing  grief,  the  grief  which  comes  only  to 
the  young ;  and  if  at  times,  during  the  next  two  days, 
she  felt  a  sudden  passionate  regret  for  what  she  had 
done,  and  entertained  for  a  moment  a  hope  that  she 


278  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

might  not  be  taken  at  her  word,  yet  she  would  not,  if 
she  could,  have  withdrawn  her  letter. 

Mademoiselle  Dufour  and  Mabs  noticed  her  altered 
looks,  and  Mabs  was  evidently  concerned  about  her. 
Helen  saw  the  child  gazing  at  her  with  serious  eyes, 
and  when  Mademoiselle  Dufour  left  the  room  after 
breakfast  the  first  day,  Helen  found  a  little  hand 
stealing  into  hers.  '  Are  you  sure  there's  nothing  the 
matter,  auntie  ?  You  look  so  sad,  like  mummie  did 
when  Uncle  Charlie  died.' 

Helen  caught  the  child  up  and  kissed  her,  and 
laughed  off  the  question  ;  but  Mabs  went  away  uncon- 
vinced, and  more  than  once  Helen  found  the  serious 
blue  eyes  fixed  upon  her  again. 

Mademoiselle  discouraged  the  subject.  '  Miss  Tre- 
veryan  has  de  headeck,'  she  said. 

And  Mabs  answered, '  She  wouldn't  cry  just  because 
she  had  a  headache ;  and  I  know  she's  been  crying. 
It's  awful  fag  having  a  headache,  of  course,  but  English 
people  don't  cry  for  those  sort  of  things.'  With  Made- 
moiselle Dufour  Mabs  was  always  patriotic  ;  and  in 
familiar  conversation  her  language  generally  bore  some 
traces  of  her  last  letter  from  her  brother,  who  was  at 
school  in  England. 

Guy  Langley's  first  feeling  when  he  received  Helen's 
letter  was  one  of  surprise  which  rapidly  changed  into 
one  of  alarmed  impatience.  He  thought  Helen  cared 
too  much  for  him  to  resist  successfully  if  he  pressed  her 
with  all  his  strength,  but  he  was  not  perfectly  sure. 


XIX  TRYING  TO  DO  RIGHT  279 

There  were  hidden  depths  in  her  nature  which  he  had 
not  yet  sounded.  She  was  not  yet  his  own.  The  doubt 
and  the  opposition  incited  him,  and  made  him  all  the 
warmer  in  his  resolve.  He  could  not,  at  the  first 
check,  go  back  from  all  he  had  said,  and  seem  light  and 
changeable.  If  she  had  been  put  out  of  his  reach  by 
some  power  against  which  it  was  hopeless  to  contend, 
he  would  no  doubt  have  resigned  himself  before  long 
to  the  inevitable,  and  possibly,  in  time,  he  might  have 
come  to  feel  that  it  was  better  so.  But  this  was  a 
different  thing.  He  could  not  let  her  put  him  aside. 
Love,  and  pride,  and  obstinacy,  and  an  inherited  dis- 
like of  opposition,  and  a  sense  of  chivalrous  pity  for 
Helen,  combined  to  urge  him  forward. 

His  answer  was  masterful,  and  yet  humble.  In- 
stinct teaches  most  men  to  blend  the  two  things 
in  dealing  with  women.  '  I  will  not  accept  your 
answer,'  he  wrote  ;  '  I  will  never  accept  it.  You  have 
confessed  that  you  love  me ;  and  having  once  con- 
fessed that,  you  have  no  right  to  ask  me  to  give  you 
up.  It  would  be  a  folly  and  a  wickedness  to  ruin 
both  our  lives  in  order  to  humour  my  mother,  who  is 
not  in  a  position  to  judge,  and  nothing  will  ever  in- 
duce me  to  agree  to  it.  Does  not  your  own  Bible  tell 
you  that  a  man  will  give  up  father  and  mother  and 
cleave  to  his  wife  ?  If  you  have  any  other  reason  for 
what  you  have  written,  if  you  have  lost  trust  in  me, 
and  feel  that  I  am  unworthy  of  you,  then  I  will  sub- 
mit without  another  word.      So  long  as  I  live  I  will  be 


28o  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap. 

loyal  to  every  wish  of  yours ;  but  the  thought  is  such 
intolerable  misery  that  I  implore  you,  if  indeed  you  do 
love  me  still,  not  to  leave  me  in  doubt  an  hour  longer 
than  necessary.  Yet,  if  that  is  your  true  reason,  if 
you  no  longer  feel  for  me  what  you  once  felt,  do  not 
hesitate  to  tell  me  so.  I  can  bear  any  pain  that  your 
dear  hands  inflict  upon  me.  I  shall  never  for  one 
moment  reproach  you  or  regret  that  I  loved  you.  You 
have  given  me  a  happiness  nothing  can  ever  take  from 
me.' 

Poor  Helen  !  She  had  meant  to  be  very  brave  and 
determined,  but  Guy's  answer  made  it  cruelly  hard,  and 
her  resolution  was  further  shaken  by  a  letter  which  she 
received  from  Mrs.  Aylmer.  It  was  a  little  loving 
note.  '  You  are  the  dearest  girl  in  the  world,'  Mrs. 
Aylmer  said,  '  but  indeed  you  are  wrong  in  this.  He 
is  very  fond  of  you,  and  if  he  ever  accepted  your  de- 
cision, which,  by  the  way,  I  am  sure  he  won't,  you 
would  only  have  made  him  wretched  as  well  as  your- 
self. His  mother  will  see  reason  sooner  or  later,  and 
in  any  case  she  has  no  right  to  come  between  you. 
I  should  think  very  badly  of  him  if  he  allowed  her  to 
do  so.  He  ought  to  be,  and  is,  proud  of  having  won 
you,  and  you  have  a  perfect  right  to  please  yourselves. 
You  will  not  be  doing  him  harm,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
bringing  him  great  ha]3piness  ;  and  some  day  you  will 
wonder  that  you  ever  doubted  it.  You  may  trust  me, 
dear.  I  would  not  say  it  if  I  did  not  believe  it.  Don't 
think  it  must  necessarily  be  right  to  do  whatever  is 


XIX  TRYING  TO  DO  RIGHT  281 

hard  and  painful  to  you.  We  were  not  sent  into  this 
world  to  make  ourselves  miserable.  And  don't  be  angry 
with  me  for  interfering.  I  feel  as  if  you  were  my  big 
daughter,  and  I  can't  help  trying  to  keep  you  from 
spoiling  your  own  life.' 

Helen  did  not  answer  that  day.  She  could  not  do 
so.  She  felt  unable  to  come  to  any  decision.  It 
seemed  to  her  as  if  she  had  been  left  without  guidance. 
She  had  meant  to  do  right,  and  it  had  been  so  hard. 
Could  all  that  striving  and  sorrow  have  been  unneces- 
sary and  useless,  and  even  foolish  and  wrong  ?  If  only 
Aunt  Madge  had  been  alive !  It  was  not  the  poor 
loving  mother  of  whom  she  thought  in  her  distress ; 
she  had  never  known  her  mother.  The  pale  tired  face 
and  the  patient  eyes  had  passed  out  of  her  life  when 
she  was  little  more  than  a  baby ;  when  a  brave,  heart- 
broken woman  had  driven  away  alone  through  the 
stone  gateway  at  Laneithin  into  the  darkness  and  rain 
of  the  desolate  Cornish  roads,  leaving  behind,  to  forget 
her,  the  child  she  would  have  died  for. 

Helen  Tr  every  an  was  awake  far  into  the  night, 
fighting  her  battle  alone  ;  but  there  could  be  only  one 
end  to  such  a  conflict.  At  last,  as  she  knelt  by  her 
bedside,  her  hands  clasped  before  her,  and  her  beauti- 
ful earnest  face  white  with  suffering,  while  the  lamp- 
light fell  like  a  glory  about  the  bright  brown  hair, 
conviction  and  peace  came  to  her,  and  she  ceased 
to  struggle  against  her  happiness.  She  'rose  with 
shining  eyes  and  a  deep  joy  in  her  heart.      It  was 


282  HELEN  TREVERYAN  chap,  xix 

long  past  midnight,  and  everything  was  silent  as  she 
walked  to  her  window  and  drew  aside  the  curtain. 
The  night  was  fine  and  still,  and  the  stars  clear.  She 
could  see  the  dark  rounded  outlines  of  the  hills  against 
the  sky,  and  a  single  light  gleamed  faintly  from  a  house 
among  the  trees  to  the  northward.  She  stood  a  few 
minutes  at  the  window,  with  her  hand  on  the  curtain, 
and  then  came  back  to  her  writing-table  and  sat  down. 
This  time  she  wrote  a  few  words  only — 

My  dearest — I  cannot  try  to  be  brave  any  more.  I  have 
never  changed  for  an  instant.  How  could  I  think  you  anything 
but  good  and  true  and  unselfish  when  you  are  giving  up  so  much 
for  me  ?  You  said  your  mother  pressed  you  to  go  home.  I 
want  you  to  write  by  this  mail  and  say  you  will  go  directly,  if 
you  can  get  leave.  When  you  come  back,  if  you  still  want  me, 
I  will  come  to  you  whether  she  will  have  me  or  not.  I  only 
hope  I  am  not  doing  wrong.  I  shall  never  forgive  myself  if  I 
find  in  the  end  that  I  have  brought  you  unhappiness.  Please 
don't  refuse  to  go  home.  I  could  not  be  happy  unless  I  felt  I 
had  done  all  in  my  power  to  prevent  things  going  wrong.  You 
will  not  distress  me  by  refusing  ? — Ever  your  own 

Helen. 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


Printed  by  R.  &  R.  Clark,  Edinburgh 


MACMILLAN'S  THREE-AND-SIXPENNY  SERIES 

OF 

WORKS    BY    POPULAR    AUTHORS. 

In  Crown  8vo.     Cloth  extra.     Price  3s.  6d.  each. 

By  Sir  SAMUEL  BAKER. 
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THE  SQUATTER'S  DREAM. 
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ROBBERY  UNDER  ARMS. 
THE  MINER'S  RIGHT. 
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LIVING  OR  DEAD  ?  |  A  FAMILY  AFFAIR. 

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OLIVE.     With  Illustrations  b*y  G.  Bowers. 

THE  OGILVIES.     With  Illustrations. 

AGATHA'S  HUSBAND.     With  Illustrations. 

HEAD  OF  THE  FAMILY.     With  Illustrations. 

TWO  MARRIAGES. 

THE  LAUREL  BUSH. 

MY  MOTHER  AND  I.     With  Illustrations. 

MISS  TOMMY  :  A  Medieval  Romance.     Illustrated. 

KING  ARTHUR  :  Not  a  Love  Story. 

SERMONS  OUT  OF  CHURCH. 

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SPECTATOR. — "With  the  solitary  exception  of  Mrs.  Oliphant  we 
have  no  living  novelist  more  distinguished  for  variety  of  theme  and  range 
of  imaginative  outlook  than  Mr.  Marion  Crawford." 

MR.   ISAACS  :  A  Tale  of  Modern  India.     Portrait  of  Author. 

DR.  CLAUDIUS  :  A  True  Story. 

A  ROMAN  SINGER. 

ZOROASTER. 

MARZIO'S  CRUCIFIX. 

A  TALE  OF  A  LONELY  PARISH. 

PAUL  PATOFF. 

WITH  THE  IMMORTALS. 

GREIFENSTEIN.  ^  \ 

SANT'  ILARIO.  ^ 

A  CIGARETTE-MAKER'S  ROMANCE. 

By  Sir  HENRY  CUNNINGHAM,  K.C.I.E. 

ST.  JAMES'S  GAZETTE. — "Interesting  as  specimens  of  romance, 
the  style  of  writing  is  so  excellent — scholarly  and  at  the  same  time  easy 
and  natural — that  the  volumes  are  worth  reading  on  that  account  alone. 
But  there  is  also  masterly  description  of  persons,  places,  and  things  ; 
skilful  analysis  of  character  ;  a  constant  play  of  wit  and  humour  ;  and  a 
happy  gift  of  instantaneous  portraiture." 

THE  CCERULEANS.  |  THE  HERIOTS. 

WHEAT  AND  TARES. 

By  CHARLES  DICKENS. 

THE  PICKWICK  PAPERS.     With  50  Illustrations. 
OLIVER  TWIST.     With  27  Illustrations. 
NICHOLAS  NICKELBY.     With  44  Illustrations. 
MARTIN  CHUZZLEWIT.     With  41  Illustrations. 
THE  OLD  CURIOSITY  SHOP.     With  97  Illustrations. 
BARNABY  RUDGE.     With  76  Illustrations. 

By  LANOE  FALCONER. 
CECILIA  DE  NOEL. 

By  W.  TVARDE  FO^W^LER. 

A  YEAR  WITH  THE  BIRDS.     Illustrated  by  Bryan  Hook. 
TALES  OF  THE  BIRDS.     Illustrated  by  Bryan  Hook. 

By  the  Rev.  JOHN  GILMORE. 
STORM  WARRIORS. 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  BEDFORD  STREET, 

STRAND,  LONDON. 


